


Someone To Die For

by Sxymami0909, xtremeroswellian



Series: Weight Of The World [1]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Banshee Lydia Martin, Derek Is So Done, F/M, Friends to Lovers, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Jackson is an asshat, Protective Allison, Protective Scott, Protective Stiles, Scott is a Good Friend, Slow Build, Werewolf Hunters, Werewolf Stiles Stilinski, the bite is a gift
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-21
Updated: 2015-02-04
Packaged: 2018-03-02 16:30:55
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 7
Words: 52,316
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2818784
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sxymami0909/pseuds/Sxymami0909, https://archiveofourown.org/users/xtremeroswellian/pseuds/xtremeroswellian
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Lydia's life is on the line, Stiles makes the ultimate sacrifice, but what happens next effects the lives of not just Stiles and Scott, but Derek, Lydia and Allison as well. How far will Stiles be willing to go to protect the people he loves? And when the unexpected happens how will Stiles deal with his new responsibilities and what will Lydia think of what he gave up for her?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

His phone wasn’t broken.  
  
Somehow. Despite the fact it had been stomped on none-too-gently, and the screen was shattered, the thing still worked. That alone was somewhat of a miracle.  
  
With a blood-covered, shaking hand he scrolled through his contact list until it reached the only person he thought might be able to help him.  
  
He pressed send, biting down hard on his lower lip as pain shot through his body. He laid his head against the floor for a moment, willing himself not to cry anymore than he already had. The concrete was cold beneath his skin, which felt like it was on fire.  
  
He waited, listening to the ringing on the other end of the line and willing his best friend to answer. _He has to answer,_ he thought, forcing himself to take a slow deep breath. _Don’t hyperventilate. Do not hyperventilate._  
  
Scott was breathing heavy, his hands curled into the ground as he squeezed his eyes shut. Allison knew. Not only did she know, she’d _seen_ him. He took several deep breaths letting them out slowly. He could fix this...there was still time to fix this. Scott’s thoughts were interrupted by the feel of his phone vibrating in his pocket.  
  
He sat up on his knees, wiped his face, and reached into his pocket. The sight of Stiles name on the screen made his chest tighten even more. He pushed the button and brought the phone to his ear. “Hey man,” he said quietly as he pushed himself up until he was standing.  
  
The familiar sound of Scott’s voice made him shudder with relief. But when he spoke, his voice cracked. “ _Scott._ I need your help.”  
  
Scott straightened up completely at the tone of his friend’s voice, a frown forming on his face. Worry filled him making him temporarily forget about what had just happened with Allison. “Stiles, what’s wrong? What happened?” He asked his hand clenching around the phone.  
  
Stiles looked down at the hand that was pressed against his hip, blood warm and slick beneath his fingers and a couple of tears streaked down his face as he struggled not to cry. He swallowed heavily, exhaling in a shaky breath. “I’m in trouble.” That was actually a severe understatement of what was going on, but he couldn’t have this conversation over a phone either. “You know that old abandoned subway station at the edge of town?”  
  
Scott frowned, “Yeah, of course,” how could he not? They’d used to play near it when they were kids and his mom would always get mad. “What are you doing there?” He asked assuming if Stiles was mentioning it that’s where he had to be.  
  
“It’s sort of a long story,” he admitted, laying his forehead against the floor again. “I’m also kind of trapped inside?”  
  
“Trapped?” Scott’s frown deepened and he was already walking in the direction in the direction of town so he could get out of the preserve and to Stiles. “How did you get trapped?” He asked while quickening his pace, the cool breeze getting rid of some of the heat overwhelming his body. The last time Scott had seen Stiles he was at the dance, dancing with Lydia.  
  
He hesitated for a second, not wanting to even give that much away over the phone because he knew Scott was going to be freaked out. _He_ was freaked out. No. He was _terrified._ But he couldn’t just keep brushing his best friend’s questions off. “Peter Hale,” he said, voice dropping. “Scott, you have to be careful, because he might still be here somewhere. Please be careful.”  
  
Scott’s eyes widened at the mention of Peter Hale, “I’m on my way,” he promised not sure why Peter would lock Stiles up to begin with. “Just...hang tight, I’m coming Stiles.”  
  
“Okay.” He heard his phone beeping and he shut his eyes. “My phone’s dying. I gotta hang up, Scott.” Dread rushed through him. He didn’t want to hang up because he was afraid that either Peter would come back and he’d have to try and deal with that alone, or he was going to end up bleeding out before Scott could get there.  
  
Fear ripped Scott at the dread in his best friend’s voice. He swallowed hard. “It’s okay. I’ll get there faster if I’m not on the phone...I can run,” he whispered knowing that Allison’s father and the rest of the hunters were probably still out there looking for him. His stomach clenched as he shrugged his suit jacket off, the material fluttering to the ground behind him as he picked up his pace swerving easily in and out of trees as he made his way to the main path.  
  
“Everything is going to be okay Stiles...I promise.” He said quietly. “I’ll see you soon.” Scott swallowed hard and disconnected the call. He slid his phone into his pants and then shifted, his vision clearing and sharpening in the dark as he crouched over and started running on all fours. Wind whipped through his hair, his hands crunching against dirt, grass, and rocks as he ran to the abandoned subway station...to _Stiles_.  
  
Stiles ended the call and reluctantly turned his phone off. He grimaced at the sight of the blood on his hand even as he felt light-headed, dizzy. His last thought before passing out was that he hoped that Peter was long gone by the time Scott arrived. Because if anything else happened to his best friend because of him, he was never, ever going to forgive himself.  


______

  
  
It didn’t take Scott long to get to the station. He straightened up, pausing and scenting the air trying to see if Peter was near. He hunkered down briefly, his eyes glowing as they scanned the perimeter, but no one was there. Scott relaxed slightly, though his body still held more than the normal amount of tension. He’d almost been seen by hunters while leaving the preserve and though he got away clean, they knew who he was now, which was something he was going to have to deal with. _Later_ , he told himself.  
  
Right now, Stiles needed him. Scott moved forward through the dilapidated outside of the building, practically shoving the door down as he moved inside, the smell of rotting wood and earth filled his nose as he moved deeper into the building spotting a door off the side that was barricaded. Scott growled low in his throat and ran towards it, slamming his fists into the vending machine that was in front of it.  
  
He broke it into pieces shoving it aside before slamming into the door so hard it dented. Scott got it open and rushed down the steps into the dark, cool, subway area. “Stiles! Stiles where are you?!” He called as he moved off the last stair and onto hard concrete, his gaze drifted to the off railed train before him.  
  
Stiles didn’t hear the noise as Scott broke down whatever barricades Peter had used to block him in with. But he did wake at the sound of his best friend’s voice calling his name, sounding frantic and afraid. He could probably smell the blood. He licked his lips, trying to lift his head off the ground, but he still felt weak, his limbs heavier than usual, and his skin still far too warm to be normal. None of this was normal, he thought idly.  
  
“Scott,” he called back, voice quieter than it should have been. Quieter than it ever really was. “I’m here.” He looked around, but everything was just a tad too blurry. He didn’t know where Scott was, but he knew he was there unless he’d started hallucinating.  
  
Scott’s head jerked up at the sound of his friend’s voice seconds before the smell of blood invaded his nose. Fear gripped him as he followed the sound using his senses until he ended up inside of the train, running into the car of it when he saw Stiles on the floor.  
  
Scott was by his side in seconds, his eyes widening when he saw the blood staining Stiles’ clothes. “Oh god, what did he do to you?” He asked his hand already fumbling with his best friend’s shirt, lifting it and freezing moments later. Scott’s eyes widened and his face paled. “Oh god...no.” He whispered, his gaze taking in the large bite on Stiles’ side.  
  
Stiles swallowed heavily, heart thumping wildly against his chest. “Pretty sure I’m gonna have to throw this shirt away,” he tried to joke, wiping at the tears that were suddenly blurring his eyes. When in doubt, make a joke. It took him a second to notice that Scott also looked disheveled, like he’d been in a fight or something. Or maybe it had just happened when he’d run and broke down the barricades outside the subway station.  
  
The tension in Scott’s body released as his shoulders slumped his gaze shifting from the bite to Stiles’ face. He could feel moisture prickling at his eyes at the sight of his best friend. “Why, why would he do this? Stiles what happened?” He asked desperately. Anxiety filled Scott’s chest, this all couldn’t be happening at a worse time.  
  
He let out a shuddering breath, rubbing his hand over his face and closing his eyes as he began to explain.  
  
 _Where was she? Stiles looked around the darkened school corridor after running into Jackson, who hadn’t seen her since they arrived at the dance. He was filled with a sense of dread that he couldn’t explain. He didn’t really have reason to think she was in any kind of danger -- there was no real reason she _would_ be here.  
  
Except he couldn’t shake the feeling that something was terribly, terribly wrong.  
  
He made his way to the back exit of the building that led out to the lacrosse field. It was yards from the school, but even from where he was he could see movement out there. He paused for just a second. Why would she look for Jackson on the lacrosse field during the winter formal? It didn’t make any sense.  
  
But he moved anyway, his pace picking up as he spotted a second figure there, walking toward her. Fear shot through him like a lightning bolt. “Lydia!” he screamed. “Lydia, run!”  
  
Lydia’s head whipped around and she squinted her eyes trying to make out the person running in her direction calling her name, but she couldn’t. The light from the field was too bright and by the time she turned a disfigured face with fangs was coming towards her and before she even had a chance to scream, she felt sharp teeth ripping into her flesh and a strangled cry left her throat, fear surging inside of her.  
  
She felt a claw of some kind tear into her side and the sight of blood made her lightheaded. Pain surged inside of her and the flash of red eyes and fangs was the last thing she saw as her body hit the damp grass, darkness surrounding her.  
  
It only took him a second to recognize who the other figure was. Peter Hale. Shit. Shit shit shit. And then he watched with horror as Peter descended on her, watched her fall to the ground, blood blooming across her pretty pink dress. Terror surged through him. Was she still alive? He dropped to her side at the same time Peter did, his eyes flashing dark and red and dangerous. “Don’t,” he whispered.  
  
Peter kept his gaze on Stiles, cocking his head to the side as he slid one claw down the skin of Lydia’s arm. “Don’t?” He inquired, a slow smirk spreading across his face as he watched fear build in the boy’s face. “Alright then,” he said brightly pulling his hand back, amusement sparkling in his gaze.  
  
“How about I give you a chance to save the woman you so desperately love?” He mocked as he leaned over her body, inhaling her scent, eyes flashing red before meeting Stiles’ gaze again.  
  
“What do you want?” Stiles asked, voice shaking even as his gaze dropped to Lydia’s still form. “What do you want from me?”  
  
Another smirk slithered onto Peter’s face as he leaned closer to Stiles. “Take the bite Stiles...or I’ll kill her,” he glanced down at Lydia and ran his fingers through her red hair. “Gorgeous little thing isn’t she?” He asked conversationally letting his hand slid down her cheek, neck, shoulder and arm. “Such soft ivory skin…”  
  
Peter’s gaze flickered back to the teenager in front of him. “Feel free to think about it,” he replied, “But I wouldn’t take too long it seems these cuts are a bit deeper than I intended.” He told him innocently, “I think...oh yes that _is_ a stutter in that strong heartbeat of hers.” Peter tsked.  
  
“Stop,” he whispered, feeling nauseous. “Just...just stop.” He swallowed heavily, feeling Peter’s hot breath against his face. As terrifying as it was to be so close to the man who’d turned Scott, who’d wreaked havoc on Beacon Hills for weeks now with murders and death, watching him touch Lydia was even worse. The fact that his hands were still clawed didn’t make him feel any better.  
  
And he could see the blood stain growing bigger on her dress, her skin losing more of its color. He felt like he was going to throw up. “Do whatever you want to me, just -- just leave her alone. She’s not involved in any of this.”  
  
Peter arched an eyebrow, “Is that so?” He asked amused, “Hmm I think maybe she’s more involved than you think,” he replied with a smirk, his finger dipping into the blood at her side briefly before shifting quickly practically knocking Stiles back. “So I’ll take that as a yes then?” He said gripping the back of Stiles’ shirt and tugging him up onto his feet as he stood.  
  
He let the older man tug him so he was standing. Not that he really had much of a choice in the matter. It wasn’t like he had any chance of doing a damn thing to stop him. “I can’t just leave her here.” There was more than a hint of anxiety in his voice. “She’ll bleed out.”  
  
Peter rolled his eyes, “Oh she’ll be fine until someone finds her...hopefully. Even if she’s not I still kept my promise because _I_ didn’t kill her,” he offered attempting to drag Stiles away, but the teenagers feet dug down into the ground and Peter paused glaring at him. He let out a dramatic sigh and released Stiles. “Oh for the love of--fine call someone quickly before I finish the job either way and take her dead and bloody body with us. The car has a big trunk you know,” the words left his mouth with a grin.  
  
Stiles blanched at the words because he knew without a doubt that Peter would do exactly that. He didn’t waste time as he pulled his phone out of his pocket with a shaking hand, quickly scrolling through his contacts until he came across a number he never really thought he’d ever be calling. He waited for Jackson to answer, trying to push away the panic building in his chest.  
  
Jackson was walking out of the bathroom, brushing off his suit boredom oozing from his skin. How in the world had he left McCall talk him into this shit? Oh right, the threat of bodily harm. He rolled his eyes as he walked down the hallway towards the gym.  
  
His phone vibrated in his pocket and he slid a hand inside to grab it. Jackson groaned and rolled his eyes when ‘tesiticle number 2’ popped up on his phone. He answered it and brought it to his ear. “What do you want?”  
  
“You need to get to the lacrosse field right _now_ ,” he said, voice forceful and commanding. “It’s Lydia.” He didn’t give Jackson a chance to respond before he hung up his phone. He needed to get Peter away from her immediately.  
  
Peter arched an eyebrow, “Can we go now?” He asked not waiting for a response before grabbing Stiles by the back of his neck and pushing him forward. He leaned into Stiles, “Don’t worry after all I did bite her.” he said with a smirk, “I’m sure she’ll heal up in no time and then well, what a werewolf she’ll make,” he taunted despite the fact he knew that, that wouldn’t happen. Stiles didn’t know that.  
  
That was sort of exactly why he was worried, but before he could think of a Plan B about how he was going to get himself out of this monumentally terrible situation, he was being shoved into Peter’s car.  
  
Peter slammed the door behind Stiles pulling the keys out of his trench coat and getting into the driver’s side. He started the car and glanced briefly at the teenager beside him, smirk on his face. Stiles wasn’t getting away from him this time. He knew exactly where he was going to take him and no one would interrupt him. By the end of the night he’d have the bite and by tomorrow...a new werewolf would be born. Hopefully one that would finally convince Scott to join his pack once and for all._  
  
Stiles let out a shuddering breath as he finished telling Scott how he’d ended up in the train car, not quite able to meet his best friend’s eyes. “Dude, I’m not feeling very well,” he admitted.  
  
Scott kneeled there his mouth wide open. He’d done this for _Lydia_. Scott closed his eyes finally snapping out of his stupor. “Sorry,” he said as he reached for Stiles helping him up off the floor of the train car. He wrapped his arm around his best friend and tugged him toward the door. “It’s going to be fine. I’m gonna take you to Deaton and everything is going to be fine.” He hoped.  
  
Stiles wasn’t quite so hopeful. He knew there were only two ways this could turn out. Either he was going to be waking up a werewolf in the morning...or he wasn’t going to be waking up at all. Those were the options. He swallowed heavily, biting down hard on his tongue as Scott pulled him off the floor and out of the train car. “Did everything hurt when you went through this?” His voice was strained.  
  
Scott fought to remember as he pulled his friend from the train and continued towards the stairs that lead to the surface. He hesitated, “Not after I was bit...it hurt when I changed for the first time. I mean the bite hurt...dude it tore the flesh, but you saw me afterwards,” he commented, “I was in school.” He remembered heat filling his body and pain in his chest and limbs when he was changing or when he started to change at that party with Allison. But initially he didn’t remember there being much pain at first.  
  
He remembered Scott being in school the next day, but that had been hours later. A whole night had passed between the time he’d been bit and the time he’d gone to school. His mind was racing with horrified thoughts. What if he didn’t survive the bite? What the hell would his dad do? He gripped tightly onto Scott’s arm, gritting his teeth together. “Can we stop by your house? I need to change clothes.”  
  
Scott glanced at Stiles as he helped his friend up the stairs, “Stiles...I need to take you to Deaton. I’ve--we’ve got to let him look at your bite.” He knew it didn’t matter. Deaton couldn’t fix this...no one could. Peter bit Stiles. His best friend was bitten by a werewolf. Scott swallowed hard, “Talk to me, tell me what you’re feeling right now.” He said his brows furrowed, as Scott’s hand slipped in the warm sticky liquid on his best friend’s side.  
  
“Deaton can’t do anything for me,” he told Scott, chewing his lower lip as he let Scott help him toward the exit. “I just -- I need to change clothes and then I need to go home.” He didn’t say the rest, not wanting to scare Scott. He needed to go home and see his dad _just in case_.  
  
Scott shook his head, he needed to stay with him. He couldn’t leave him, “Stiles-” his chest tightened and his words paused. He got them up the last stair and then paused at the door when he heard a noise. His entire body tensed and he frowned, his eyes glowing again as a hint of fear spread through him. What if Allison’s dad had somehow managed to track him? What if he saw _Stiles_. Scott would never forgive himself if anything happened to his best friend.  
  
“What is it?” he whispered when Scott froze in his tracks, eyes glowing yellow. He laid his head back against the wall as his friend looked around, hearing or sensing another presence. “Scott, what’s going on?” A hint of uncertainty crept into his voice. “Is it Peter? Is he back?”  
  
Scott shook his head, “No it’s not Peter...it’s no one.” He said a hint of relief filling his voice. “I need to get you back to my house now.” He said frowning, “I ran here…” And there wasn’t anyone for him to call to help them get back quickly and safely. Unless, he hesitated and glanced at his best friend, but when he saw the blood he figured he probably shouldn’t wait. “I thought it might be hunters,” he replied honestly before starting to walk forward again towards the exit.  
  
“Allison’s dad?” he guessed, blinking a few times to try and clear his vision as he looked at Scott and then glanced around, not hearing or seeing anything unusual. “You’re okay, right?”  
  
Scott kept moving forward though he chanced a glance at his best friend, “For the moment.” He offered.  
  
“Oh man.” He groaned. “I really don’t like the sound of that. Why are you always getting yourself into trouble?” he asked wryly.  
  
Scott made a small noise in the back of his throat and huff as he arched an eyebrow and cocked his head in Stiles’ direction, “That’s cute coming from you. I’m sorry did you say you wanted me to leave you here in the middle of an abandoned subway station or take you home with me?” He asked even as he tugged him into the cool night air, glancing around and making sure they were still alone.  
  
He couldn’t help but smirk, leaning on Scott more heavily as he forced his left leg to move forward as they walked. “Hey you should know me well enough to know by now that I just copy what you do in life,” he joked, barely managing not to cry out as pain shot through his torso. “Dragging me down into your trouble-making ways.”  
  
Scott could hear the pain in his friend’s voice. Stiles wasn’t fooling anyone, least of all him. “Does it feel...warm? Your body?” He asked, “Like something inside of you is...shifting?” He pulled more of Stiles’ weight against his body as he picked up speed trying to get them back to his house as soon as possible, it wasn’t that far, they used to ride their bikes around the area as kids, but it was far enough when they both had enemies.  
  
“Man, I feel like my blood’s boiling,” he admitted, his fingers digging into Scott’s shoulder involuntarily. “Okay, look you’re gonna -- you’re gonna have to just leave me here and like, go get my jeep.” He dug his hand into his pocket and pulled out his keys, holding them out to Scott. “It’s still in the school parking lot.”  
  
“I’m not leaving you, Stiles...what if Peter comes back?” He asked with a frown, fear building in his chest, “Or worse...what if Allison’s dad finds you? I can’t leave you here man, I can’t.” He said his voice hitching, “I’ll carry you.” he said resolutely.  
  
“Dude, no way,” he protested. He had _some_ dignity left. Granted, he might have been dying, but he couldn’t just let Scott _carry_ his ass around like he was some kind of damsel in distress either.  
  
Scott grunted, “Then come on and walk...I know it’s hard, but I’m _not_ leaving you.” There was too much uncertainty at the moment. Even with werewolf speed Scott wasn’t sure how long it would take him to get to the school and back. What if Peter showed up he was faster than Scott and who knew how far away the Argents were. He continued moving helping his best friend as much as he could, “It’s not that far...just a few blocks.” He told him. “I can help you do it.”  
  
Stiles swallowed heavily, forcing himself to take a deep breath as Scott propelled them forward. He didn’t protest anymore as they moved and he tried not to think about how much danger he’d placed Scott in -- not only because of Peter, but because of Allison’s father and his hunter buddies. If something happened to Scott because of him…  
  
He couldn’t think about it. He did his best to push all the thoughts out of his head as they headed down the sidewalk in the dark. He was never so relieved to see the McCall’s house come into view as he was right then, twenty or thirty minutes later -- he wasn’t sure. “Your mom?” he managed to ask.  
  
“Double shift at the hospital,” he said immediately as the walked the last block and finally reached the front porch of his house. Scott paused at the front door and reached into his pants pocket digging around for his keys with a shaky hand. When his fingers finally closed around the cold metal he pulled them open and unlocked the door, shoving it open with one foot after turning the knob. “Come on,” he said quietly.  
  
Thank god, he thought, trying to imagine the look on Melissa McCall’s face if they stumbled through the front door like this, Stiles drenched in blood and looking as bad as he knew he had to look. He let Scott pull him inside the house before he finally let out a breath he hadn’t even realized he’d been holding. It hadn’t occurred to him before now, but in the back of his mind, he hadn’t been sure that he was going to survive the trip from abandoned subway to the McCall’s. Now he just wanted to drop down and pass out. His grip tightened on Scott’s arm just a little as they moved toward the stairs.  
  
“I’ve got you,” Scott said quietly when he felt his friend’s grip tighten on him. It didn’t take Scott long to get Stiles up the stairs and into his room. He helped his friend sit on the bed before running into his bathroom, flipping on the light and grabbing the first aid kit. A rush of deja vu hit him. Scott remembered the night he had come home and cleaned his own wound bandaging it up and praying his mom didn’t see it.  
  
He swallowed heavily, his chest tight before pushing away from the sink and moving back into the bedroom. Scott placed the first aid kit on the bed beside Stiles. “Can you get your shirt off? I’ll grab a new one and some sweats.” He told him before turning and walking over to his dresser.  
  
Stiles nodded slightly, taking a deep breath as he shifted, pain shooting through him as he lifted his arms up above his head and yanked his shirt off. He looked down at the wound on his side, grimacing at the blood that was all over him. Some of it was dry and some of it was still oozing from the bitemark. It made him kind of light-headed. He swallowed hard, clutching tightly onto the dress shirt in his hand as Scott returned to his side a moment later. “Have I mentioned lately that I’m not a fan of blood?” Because he really was not a fan of blood. Or pain.  
  
Half a smile pulled at Scott’s lips, “I know,” he said quietly as he rested the clean clothes on the other side of Stiles and reached for the first aid kit. “Just...look the other way. This won’t take long.” He pulled open the box and rummaged through it until he found what he needed. About ten minutes later there was a pile of bloody gauze on Scott’s bed and he was taping gauze to Stiles’ side as carefully as he could. “How is that? Does it hurt bad? Is it sticking?” He asked all at once.  
  
“It’s fine,” he mumbled, stomach turning. He quickly rose to his feet and launched himself toward the bathroom, throwing up in the toilet seconds later. His hands clutched tightly at the rug, fingernails digging into it instinctively as he got sick.  
  
Scott ran after his friend, fear stirring inside of him as he tried to see if there was anything that looked black coming from his friends mouth. He sucked in a sharp breath, “Stiles,” worry colored his voice, “What--Are you--Is it black?” He asked finally, anxiety prickling inside of him.  
  
He grimaced at that, exhaling in shuddering breaths before flushing the toilet. “No,” he told him, leaning against the wall. “No, it was red.” As in blood red. Awesome. Beads of sweat were on his forehead and he looked at Scott wearily.  
  
Scott frowned. “I think you better get in bed dude,” he bent down, “Come on, I’ll help you up.” He said while reaching for him.  
  
“Maybe I should go home, Scott,” he whispered, rubbing a hand over his face.  
  
Scott pursed his lips. “You’re not going to die Stiles...you can’t.” He whispered, his eyes tearing up. “You’re going to be okay...It’s going to be okay.” It had to be. Scott couldn’t do this without Stiles.  
  
The fear in his best friend’s voice was enough to make his throat tighten and he swallowed around the lump there. He drew in a breath and nodded slightly, reaching out for Scott’s arm to help him up off the floor. “Okay. Then help me up. I need sleep.” He stomach turned again. “Uh. Maybe after I puke again, though.”  
  
Scott frowned trying. He didn’t remember throwing up at all. He helped Stiles shift so he was facing the toilet. God, he had to be okay, Scott couldn’t survive without Stiles, he was his best friend, his _brother_. He rested a hand on his back and took a deep breath.  
  
Stiles shut his eyes, willing back the waves of nausea that were washing over him. After several long moments, the feeling began to subside. He reached out, gripping onto Scott’s arm once more. “I think I’m okay to move,” he said.  
  
Scott nodded, “Okay,” he helped Stiles up and, gripping his friend’s arm tightly as he slowly guided him out of the bathroom and guided him to the bed helping him sit. He was silent for a minute, “I’m so sorry about this, Stiles.” Scott’s voice was barely a whisper. “I wish--God I’m just so sorry about Peter.”  
  
“It’s not your fault,” Stiles said quietly, looking up at Scott. It wasn’t what he wanted. But it wasn’t what Scott had wanted either. Sometimes there just wasn’t a choice. Or if there was, it wasn’t a good one. As long as Lydia lived…  
  
A surge of fear shot through him. “The hospital. Lydia,” he said with wide, frightened eyes.  
  
Scott’s brows drew together for a second until he realized what Stiles meant. His chest tightened. “Do you know if Jackson ever went to get her?” He asked with a frown knowing the other guy wasn’t exactly reliable.  
  
“No.” There was worry in his voice. “No, I don’t know.” Peter hadn’t let him linger long enough to make sure. He yanked his phone out of his pocket and turned it on only to watch it die immediately. “ _Shit._ ”  
  
Scott reached into his pocket and pulled out his phone. He held it out to Stiles knowing how important Lydia was to his best friend. And it was just dawning on him that if Peter bit Lydia she could very well be turning too. Scott closed his eyes briefly. This wasn’t good.  
  
“Thanks,” he whispered, taking the phone from him and watching Scott close his eyes as realization dawned on him at the same moment. “Oh shit. _Shit_. We have to go down there,” he said swallowing hard. “If she wakes up and starts to --” He quickly rose to his feet, wincing and reaching out to grip onto Scott’s shoulder. “We have to go down there.”  
  
Scott reached out and gripped his friend’s arm. “I’ll go down there.” He told Stiles softly. “You need to stay here and rest. I’ll check on her and see what’s going on. You need rest.” He responded catching his friend’s gaze. “I’m sure my mom will know what’s going on.” He said trying to sound upbeat, but it was hard after the night they’d all had.  
  
He hesitated, rubbing a hand over his face. “Scott, maybe -- maybe you should lock me up or something. Just in case. Do you still have that stuff I bought? The chains and stuff?”  
  
Scott glanced towards his closet, “I do, but I’m not chaining you up...at least not yet. You need to heal,” he said with a frown, “And I didn’t change right away. Remember? You should be okay until the morning, just uh...don’t wake up in the woods like I did.” He joked trying to lighten the seriousness of the situation.  
  
Stiles relaxed a little at Scott’s reassurance. If Scott thought he’d be all right til morning, he’d probably be all right til morning. He just didn’t want to accidentally hurt anyone. “Yeah. Yeah, okay.” He slowly sat back down on the edge of Scott’s bed. “You’ll let me know how Lydia is?” Except..his phone was dead, so Scott actually couldn’t. Dammit. “Nevermind. Phone.” He waved a hand in the air.  
  
“I’ll call the house,” he told his friend quietly while motioning towards the phone that was sitting on his desk from earlier in the day. “If you don’t answer I’ll assume you fell asleep and come back here.” He told him, “Just let me change and I’ll head over to the hospital.” Hopefully he’d run into Allison so maybe he could explain.  
  
“Right,” he murmured. He and his dad had gotten rid of their home phone not that long ago. Sometimes he forgot other people still had them. They were cheaper than cell phones, even if cell phones were more portable and practical. “Okay.” He took his shoes off, sliding them under the bed so no one would trip over them later.  
  
“Okay,” Scott repeated as he moved to the closet while unbuttoning his dress shirt and pulling it off. He threw it in the closet and then reached for his belt. He was in the process of pulling off his pants when he glanced over his shoulder and spoke, “Don’t forget to change into the clean clothes.” Scott reminded him as he pulled out a t-shirt from his closet and then a pair of jeans.  
  
Stiles nodded, reaching over and picking the clothes up before heading back toward the bathroom. He was going to need to wash up before putting on clean clothes. There was still dried blood on his hands and under his fingernails. “Thanks, Scott.” His voice was quiet.  
  
Scott was zipping up his jeans as Stiles walked by and he nodded sending his best friend half a smile, “Of course. Dude, you don’t have to thank me.” He told his friend quietly as he slipped his sneakers on and then stepped forward reaching out and squeezing Stiles’ shoulder. “Everything’s going to work out.”  
  
If Stiles only had half of the amount of optimism that Scott McCall had, he was pretty sure that the two of them together could actually rule the world.  


_______

  
  
Scott stood in the hospital elevator nervous energy filling him as he fiddled with the keychain in his hand. He’d left his house and ran to pick up Stiles’ jeep before heading to the hospital. It hadn’t taken him long to get there, but now that he was, Scott was having some serious anxiety issues. Stiles was currently in his house, lying in bed waiting to figure out if he was going to die or turn into a werewolf like him.  
  
Lydia had been attacked by Peter and was in the hospital. Who knew what was going to happen to her. Actually Scott knew. Either she’d die or she too would become a werewolf. God, the whole thing was just getting out of hand. Allison’s dad probably already knew that Lydia was bitten, what did that mean for her? It had certainly seemed like he wanted to do more than talk earlier when he tried to run him over with a moving vehicle.  
  
Scott sighed and ran his hands through his hair. This was turning out to be the worst night of his life. And that included a nasty divorce and being turned into a werewolf. The elevator chimed knocking Scott from his thoughts. The doors slid open and he stepped out hesitantly into the hallway.  
  
Lydia was in ICU and Scott was pretty sure her room was one of the first few. He straightened up and gripped the keys tighter as he walked further down the hallway.  
  
Allison stood outside the room Lydia was in, staring blankly in the window, arms wrapped around herself as she simply remained there rooted to the floor like she was waiting for something. Her face was a little paler than usual, cheeks still stained with the remainders of tear tracks. Her aunt was waiting in the parking lot in the car, waiting to drive the two of them to Washington to some kind of safe house.  
  
Her parents wanted her to _run._ Over things she still didn’t fully understand. But they weren’t running. They were staying here in Beacon Hills. And if they were staying, she didn’t understand why she couldn’t stay, too. Why were they sending her away with Kate? She had so many questions. She leaned her forehead against the cool glass and then jerked her head up when she caught a familiar reflection there, and she turned quickly to face Scott, heart beating a little faster than a moment before.  
  
Scott froze the second he’d seen her and when her body whipped around he swallowed hard at the look on her face. He shifted on his feet not entirely sure what to say. “Hi,” he finally said, his voice hoarse. His heart slammed against his chest, “I-um,” he paused, “How’s Lydia?” He asked trying for a topic that was neutral even though there were a dozen different things he wanted to say to her.  
  
Allison stared at him for a long moment, uncertainty clouding her dark eyes. She glanced back at the room where her best friend lay unconscious, pale but breathing on her own. “She lost a lot of blood by the time Jackson got her here. Do you know what happened?”  
  
Scott pursed his lips. “She was attacked,” he said simply not wanting to bring Stiles’ name into it especially with her dad roaming around. His best friend could very well be becoming a werewolf and that was something Scott did _not_ want Allison’s father to know.  
  
“I know that much. She was bitten.” Her tone wasn’t accusing, just honest as she turned to look at him again. “By a werewolf.” Her voice dropped at the words and she searched his expression, trying to read him.  
  
Scott’s chest tightened at her words even though that wasn’t new information. He could see her searching his face and he focused on her heartbeat finding it mostly steady. “I know,” he whispered trying to keep the emotions whirling through him under control. “Allison I-” he paused, “None of this was supposed to happen.” Scott admitted quietly. “Tonight was supposed to be romantic...and fun and just, it was supposed to be the one night that I got to be normal.” He told her softly. “But it all got messed up and now people are hurt and your dad is looking for me.” He told her shaking his head. “I’m _so_ sorry.”  
  
Allison looked down for a long moment as she tried to process all of that. “Would you have told me?” she whispered. “Ever?”  
  
Scott held her gaze and nodded. “I was going to tell you tonight,” he admitted quietly. “I wanted you to know who I really was… _what_ I was. I wasn’t lying earlier when I told you I loved you. I do,” he said taking a hesitant step toward her. “I would never hurt you Allison, I promise.”  
  
She pursed her lips, nodding slightly because she _did_ believe him. She moved forward and wound her arms around his neck, closing her eyes. “Is she gonna be okay?” she whispered.  
  
Relief slammed into Scott when Allison slid her arms around his neck. He reciprocated winding his arms around her waist and tugging her closer taking comfort in her warmth. It was the first good thing to happen all night. “I don’t know,” he told her honestly before hesitating, “I can tell you what happened...but Allison, you can’t say a word. Not to _anyone_.”  
  
Allison pulled away to look at him, her eyes troubled. “Of course not,” she whispered. “But they know about Lydia already. That she’s been…” She glanced over her shoulder at her friend, swallowing hard and then looking back at Scott. “And they know about you.” Which of course he knew since her dad had tried to run him over with his truck.  
  
Scott winced, “I know. I figured they’d know about Lydia since she’s here.” He slid a hand down her arm and threaded their fingers together tugging her gently down a small hall where the vending machines were so they could have some privacy. When they stopped walked he turned to face her, “Did Jackson bring her in?” He asked.  
  
Allison nodded solemnly. “Stiles’ dad is questioning him right now, but he said something about Stiles having called him to tell him about her being on the field and hurt. But none of us has seen Stiles since then. Where is he? Is he okay?”  
  
Scott’s expression broke at her question and he dropped his head looking away from Allison as moisture filled his eyes. “Stiles said...Lydia was attacked on the lacrosse field by Peter Hale.” He told her, his voice quiet. “He’s the alpha. He bit me.” Scott explained. “By the time Stiles got to Lydia, Peter had already bitten her.”  
  
Scott finally looked up, “He was devastated.” He whispered squeezing Allison’s hand. “Peter gave him an ultimatum. Take the bite or he’d kill Lydia.”  
  
She stared at him with wide, horrified eyes. “ _What?_ ” she whispered, her face paling. “He bit Lydia _and_ Stiles? And he’s the one who…” She swallowed hard. “Oh, Scott I’m so sorry. Is he okay? My aunt said that sometimes people reject a werewolf bite.”  
  
Scott nodded, “For now,” he said shifting on his feet as his brows drew together. “I don’t know much about what happens when the bite gets rejected. Derek mentioned it in passing, but. I don’t know a lot and Peter’s no help. He just wants me to join his pack, which I’d never do. And I don’t know where Derek is.” Scott sighed. “I’m running blind on this and...I just can’t believe one night could go so wrong.” He told her quietly.  
  
Allison closed her eyes, drawing in a breath. “I’m about to add to it,” she admitted, her expression pained. “They’re making Aunt Kate take me up to Washington. They think I’ll be safer there. That we both will.” She looked at Scott again. “Peter -- I guess he has it out for my family. I don’t really know why. I don’t understand what’s happening,” she whispered. “They’re not telling me much. I just know that none of it’s good.”  
  
Scott frowned, his chest tightening. “Maybe they’re right, maybe you are safer away from here,” especially after what happened to Stiles and Lydia. “I don’t want you to go...but I don’t want you to get hurt either. After what I’ve seen tonight.” Scott’s voice trailed off. “I can try to answer some questions if you want, but honestly there’s so much I don’t know either.” he admitted  
  
“I don’t want to leave. Especially now,” she whispered. “Not with Lydia and Stiles and…” She shook her head. “You’re gonna need my help. I’m going to try and get out of this somehow. I don’t know how, but I’m gonna try.” 

Scott stepped forward and rested his forehead against Allison’s. “I don’t want you to get in trouble and you can’t let them know about Stiles. I’m going to lay low with him for a few days until we figure everything out. But Peter is still out there.” He told her. “And that means _everyone_ needs to be careful.” 

“I’ll figure it out,” Allison promised him, resting a hand against his chest. “But if I’m not here…” She hesitated. “Please keep an eye out for Lydia, too.” She knew it was a lot to ask, and Scott and Lydia weren’t exactly friends. “But I’ll be careful.”  
  
Scott was silent for a minute before he reached out and cupped Allison’s cheek. “I will keep everyone safe,” he promised sincerely. “And I’ll find a way to make this right. I’ll find a way for us to be together,” he paused, “If that’s what you still want.” Scott said quietly, his chest tightening at the thought that Allison might not want to be with him because of what he was.  
  
“It’s what I still want,” Allison told him sincerely, gripping onto his arms.  
  
Scott smiled, his first real one since the dance. “Good because it what I want too,” he responded softly. “I’ll figure this out,” he repeated wanting her to know that he wouldn’t give up until he did. “Have they given you any updates on Lydia at all? I need some news to bring back to Stiles. Are her parents here?”  
  
She nodded slightly. “Yeah, her dad got here a little while ago. Her mom’s not here yet. I think she was out of town at a teacher’s conference.” She looked down at the floor. “And they won’t tell me anything because I’m not family.”  
  
Scott reached out lifting her chin with his finger. “Hey,” he said softly trying to get her to look at him. “I’ll talk to my mom. She’ll keep me updated with Lydia,” he said matter-of-factly even though he wasn’t sure that she would. “I’ll find out how she is,” Scott hesitated, “If she turns...did your dad say what they were going to do?” He asked quietly.  
  
Allison looked at him with troubled eyes. “No. But I can’t imagine it’s going to be anything good.” She bit her lower lip. Her phone buzzed in her pocket and she sighed softly, pulling it out and reading the text from Kate. “My aunt’s waiting on me. I have to…” She stood up on tiptoes and kissed him softly on the mouth. “Text me as you hear anything? I’ll call as soon as I can.”  
  
Scott nodded, “I will, I promise.” He rested his hand on her arm, brushing his thumb against her skin. “I love you,” he told her quietly. “And please be safe.” He said hating that she had to go, but knowing if she didn’t her Aunt would come into the hospital and that wouldn’t be good for either of them.  
  
“I love you, too,” she whispered, kissing him once more, quickly. Then she tucked her phone back into her pocket, pulling away from him reluctantly and heading down the hall and toward the exit, brushing a tear off her cheek as she walked.  
  
Scott watched her go surprise coloring his features before a real grin pulled at his lips. He stood there in the middle of the hallway, large smile on his face. “She loves me too.” He said to no one in particular.


	2. Chapter 2

He woke up slowly, stomach growling as he rolled over onto his side. Even without opening his eyes, he knew something felt...really different. Everything _smelled_ different. Different, but also familiar. He opened his eyes and sat up slowly in Scott’s bed, blinking at the sight of his best friend asleep in a chair a few feet away.   
  
His eyebrows furrowed momentarily as he tried to remember why he was there and why Scott was asleep in the chair. When something tugged at his skin, he pulled his shirt up a little, revealing the gauze and tape that were stuck to his skin. They were soaked with dried blood and he held his breath for a moment, grimacing at the scent. Lovely. He sighed and reached down, peeling it off and looking down at his skin.   
  
There was no sign of the bite mark from the previous night. It was completely gone. He swallowed hard because he knew what that meant. It meant he was never going to get sick again. That he was going to heal faster than nearly anyone else he knew. That he was going to be strong, faster.   
  
It meant that he was going to be hunted right alongside with Scott.   
  
He rubbed a hand over his face, quietly disposing of the bandages in the garbage can and making his way out of the bed and into the bathroom, returning moments later and looking at his still sleeping best friend.   
  
He was a werewolf.   
  
He was going to sprout extra hair and fangs and he was going to have the urge to kill people he loved during every full moon or anytime he got angry.   
  
Great.   
  
Scott frowned in his sleep, something was off. He stirred in his sleep even as his body tensed, his senses stretching and coming to attention trying to pull him from sleep. _Danger_. There was another wolf in his space. Adrenaline surged through Scott and his eyes flew open, the gold and yellow glint filling them, a growl rumbling in his chest.   
  
He stood quickly his mouth opening and then froze when he spotted Stiles, a brief moment of confusion filled his face and his blinked, his eyes going back to normal. “Hey,” he said clearing his throat as he took a step forward studying his friend. Scott pursed his lips. “You healed,” he commented.   
  
Stiles hadn’t exactly been expecting Scott’s eyes to flash gold or for him to _growl_ at him and he took a step back even if his instincts told him not to. He watched Scott climb out of the chair, eyes returning to normal a second later, as if he realized Stiles wasn’t a threat. God he hoped that was the case. “Looks like,” he said looking down for a moment. “How’s Lydia?”   
  
Scott arched an eyebrow, “You’re taking this...well,” he responded quietly, studying his friends face trying to read the expression there. “No change on Lydia. She’s in the ICU and she’s stable, but not awake. I don’t know about this morning...obviously.” He added as he rubbed the back of his neck. “How are you feeling?”   
  
Stiles blew out a breath, chewing the inside of his cheek. Mostly he just felt numb about all of it. It had been different when Scott had gone through it. They hadn’t known for sure what was even happening, and then Scott had been horrified. Stiles had tried to make the most of it for both of their sakes -- both because he thought it would help keep Scott calm, and also because if he pretended it didn’t _totally_ suck, it helped assuage his guilt from being the one who’d drug Scott out into the woods that night.   
  
“I need to go down there. I need to check on her,” he admitted. “I feel fine physically.” He paused. “Actually, I feel -- a lot different. Which, I am so.” He shrugged.   
  
Scott hesitated, “Are you feeling good enough to go out?” He asked remembering how things had come on fast his first day back at school after the bite. It had started with hearing Allison’s phone call and gotten more complicated from that point on. And Scott didn’t want to take any chances with his best friend’s life.   
  
“So far, yeah.” He understood Scott’s hesitation. He remembered all too vividly trying to keep Scott from doing things like going to parties or playing lacrosse to try and keep him safe and under control until he _got_ control. He knew Scott well enough to know that his best friend was looking out for him the same way now. He reached out and patted his friend’s shoulder.   
  
Scott sent Stiles a tired smile. “Good. You’ll let me know when things change?” He asked his expression turning serious. He knew he needed to tell Stiles about what happened last night and he would as soon as he made sure his friend was really okay.   
  
“I don’t want to hurt anyone, so...yeah.” Stiles said as he looked down.   
  
Scott watched his friend for a minute and then moved forward and resting his hands on Stiles’ shoulders. “Dude, I know this sucks,” he said quietly knowing it was what they were both thinking, “But we’re going to get through this. Just like we got through it when it happened with me.” He told him quietly.   
  
Scott pursed his lips, “There’s something I need to tell you, last night wasn’t exactly the right time, but now, before we head out would probably be good.”   
  
Stiles looked up at him once more, letting himself relax at Scott’s reassurance. He was right. It sucked, but they’d get through it. They’d been through a lot of things that sucked, and they always got through it together. It was just how they worked. He was pretty sure that whatever he was about to find out wasn’t something good so he tried to brace himself for whatever it might be. “I’m listening.”   
  
Scott stepped back and sat down on the edge of his bed, tension in his shoulders. “Something happened at the dance last night.” He sighed, “Allison’s dad knows about me.” He told his best friend quietly. “We were outside near the busses and him and some of his hunter friends almost smashed my body between two cars...I took off after that,” Scott admitted. He ran a hand over the back of his neck.   
  
“And then last night at the hospital I ran into Allison, who by the way also saw me shift, and she said her parents are sending her and her aunt out of town to get away from me and other werewolves basically.” He said in one long breath.   
  
“Shit,” he whispered, eyes widening. “Scott, what the hell are you gonna do?” he asked, shaking his head. “Allison’s dad is a werewolf _hunter._ ” So apparently he still liked to state the obvious. “Do you think they’re sending Allison and her aunt away so they can come after you without her around to protest?” Worry shot through him.   
  
“I don’t think that’s why they’re sending her away. But honestly I don’t know. It’s possible?” He lifted his shoulders not really sure of much anymore. Not when it came to the Argents. “I have no idea what I’m going to do, but that’s not all,” Scott responded quietly. “They know Lydia was bitten.”   
  
All the color drained from Stiles’ face. “Shit,” he whispered, rubbing his hands over his face as his heart began to beat more quickly against his chest. Like it wasn’t bad enough that they knew about Scott? Now they knew about Lydia, too.   
  
Scott swallowed hard, “But they don’t know about you and god I really want to keep it that way,” He admitted. “That’s why I asked if you were okay before because I have a feeling they’ll have someone there somewhere keeping an eye on Lydia and the last thing I want is for them to figure out you were bitten too.”   
  
Shit shit shit. Stiles moved over and sat down on the edge of Scott’s bed. “Yeah of course they’re going to have someone watching her. Because the second she’s released from the hospital, they’re gonna put a wolfsbane bullet in her _head._ ” His jaw tightened.   
  
Scott cocked his head to the side. “I don’t think they’d do that without hard evidence that she’s one of us,” he commented hoping he was right. “Stiles, we’re going to figure this out...we’ll make sure Lydia is okay, I promise.” Scott said sincerely.   
  
“Scott, you can’t go back there, either. Not if they know about you.” He looked up at him with worried eyes.   
  
Scott was silent for a minute. “I can’t just hide,” he said softly. “They already know. Hiding won’t change that.” He said quietly.   
  
“You can hide right _now_ ,” he pointed out. “And that’s what you need to do. Let me figure this out. I’ll get Lydia out of there as soon as she wakes up and…” He hesitated, raking a hand through his hair. And _what?_ Convince the two of them to run away from Beacon Hills? Because no way was Scott going to leave his mom behind. No more than Stiles would leave his dad. “And then we’ll go from there.”   
  
Scott frowned. “I don’t like leaving you to fend for yourself,” he shifted on the bed and ran a hand through his hair. “How are you going to get Lydia to go with you?” He asked raising a brow.   
  
“I know. But I can do this.” There wasn’t much choice. Not if he was going to keep Scott _and_ Lydia safe. He glanced at his best friend and exhaled slowly. “I’m gonna make Jackson help me.”   
  
Scott blinked gaping at his best friend. “I’m sorry, did you say you’re going to have Jackson help you? Stiles,” he paused, “Do you really think that’s a good idea? He can’t be trusted. If anyone knows that it’s you. I just...I don’t want anything to happen.” Scott admitted quietly.   
  
“We don’t have a lot of options here, Scott. Despite what an asshole he is, Jackson cares about her on some level. And she loves him.” It sort of pained him to say that, but it was the truth and he knew it. “I can do this.” He had to do this.   
  
Scott frowned, but he trusted Stiles. So, he nodded as shifted on his feet. “Okay man, just keep me informed. And if you see any Argents...try to stay as far away as possible.” He replied quietly. “The last thing we need is for them to know about all three of us.”   
  
He didn’t say it, but he figured it was only a matter of time before that happened anyway. Still, he nodded, reaching out and laying a hand on Scott’s shoulder. “I know.” He drew in a breath and let it out slowly. He headed for the door.   
  
“Be careful,” Scott called out, “And if you see my mom tell her you’re feeling better. I said you spent the night here because you were feeling a little sick.” He explained.   
  
Stiles turned to look at him, nodding once more. “Thanks for covering for me.”   
  
“Any time,” Scott said with half a smile before dropping down on his bed a sighing. He seriously hoped Stiles and Jackson were able to get Lydia out in time.   
  
_____   
  
Stiles tried not to think about everything that was probably going to go wrong with the fact that he was now a werewolf. But every memory of Scott’s struggle with lycanthropy was playing in the back of his mind as he made his way down the long hospital corridor. He spotted the person he needed to talk to almost immediately.   
  
Jackson was talking to Chris Argent.   
  
_Shit._ He thought about diverting his route but Argent had already spotted him. Maybe Scott had been right. This plan was terrible. When weren’t his plans terrible?   
  
Stiles moved right past both of them, walking up to the window where Lydia was lying unconscious inside. It didn’t make any sense. Why wouldn’t she have woken up by now? Had something gone wrong with the bite?   
  
Jackson’s gaze followed Stiles and his eyes turned to slits. It was about time he showed up after the damn phone call he’d made to him the other night and then finding Lydia practically dead on lacrosse field. He looked back at Allison’s father, the other man had been grilling him for the last twenty minutes about what happened to Lydia, but he honestly had no idea. “Look, I’ve answered your questions,” he said as he finally glanced back to Mr. Argent, “I need to go talk to Stiles,” he swallowed hard. “I don’t know anything else.”   
  
“Make it quick. You’re not the only one who has questions for _Stiles,_ ” he informed Jackson, low and dangerous.   
  
Stiles grimaced but didn’t turn around, not wanting to give away the fact that he’d heard everything.   
  
Jackson couldn’t help the very real beads of sweat forming on his forehead. He gave Mr. Argent a sharp nod before walking around him and over to Stiles. He stood by the glass on the other side of McCall’s pain in the ass best friend and grit his teeth. “What the hell is going on?” He ground out, “What happened last night and where the hell did you disappear to?” he demanded his voice low enough that Chris Argent couldn’t hear.   
  
Stiles glanced at him out of the corner of his eye, keeping his own voice quiet so Argent didn’t overhear. “I was a little busy being kidnapped by the guy who put Lydia in the hospital to be here,” he responded evenly. “But that doesn’t matter right now. What matters is that guy’s a werewolf hunter and Lydia might be a werewolf. So you’re gonna have to help me get her out of here safely the second she wakes up and is okay to leave.”   
  
Jackson glanced at Stiles, “Are you shitting me?” He asked, “If you hadn’t noticed Lydia is being watched. So am I and you too for that matter.” He told him shaking his head. “And maybe if you’d been here this morning you’d know that Lydia’s in some type of weird coma or something. They don’t know when she’s going to wake up. They said her body is fighting some kind of virus,” Jackson said pointedly as he eyed Stiles.   
  
Stiles’ gaze returned to the pretty strawberry blonde lying still inside the room in bed and he held his breath. Her body was fighting the werewolf bite. What the hell did that even mean? He’d never heard of such a thing before, and he’d done a lot of research on werewolves the past few months. “It doesn’t make any sense,” he murmured, mind racing with possibilities.   
  
“Yeah to you or the doctor’s. They have no clue what the hell is going on.” He told him glancing at Lydia his chest tightening slightly. “How the hell did this even happen? Why would Derek attack her?” He asked quietly. Hell he’d been begging for the bite and nothing. But Lydia, really?   
  
He glanced at Jackson sideways, shaking his head. “He didn’t. Derek’s not even an alpha. He wouldn’t have been able to turn her even if he wanted to,” he said, tone hushed. And he doubted Derek would want to. He bit his tongue for a moment. “I’m gonna have to talk to Argent.” There was no way to get out of it. Not without looking even more suspicious. “You’re gonna have to stay here. Don’t let her out of your sight. And if anyone who isn’t a doctor or her parents come to visit her, you let me know immediately.” It wasn’t a question. It was an order.   
  
Jackson glared at Stiles, “Whatever,” he told him.   
  
“Do you want her to die?” he demanded, voice low. “My guess is no.”   
  
Jackson glanced at Stiles, studied the other boy for a minute before swallowing hard and nodding. “I’m not deaf Stilinski. Just go talk to Mr. Argent.” He said waving him off as his gaze turned back to Lydia suddenly feeling a bit unsettled by the kid next to him.   
  
Stiles watched him for a moment longer before he felt satisfied that he wasn’t going to take off anytime soon and leave Lydia on her own. He moved away, heading down the hall and away from where Argent was, knowing enough about the man to know he was going to follow him. Sure enough, he found himself shoved into an empty room a moment later and he bit back a snarl. He had to play like he was just the geeky awkward teenager that Chris believed him to be right now, for all of their sakes. He let his back hit the wall and brought his gaze up to meet the other man’s, hoping he looked appropriately nervous. Since he felt nervous, he figured it still showed. “What do you want?”   
  
Chris arched an eyebrow, “What do I want? I want to know what happened last night and I want to know where Scott is.” He said pointedly looking the teenager in the eye. “And I don’t even want to hear that you don’t know, because I know you do.” He told him voice hard.   
  
“Maybe you should be a little less worried about where Scott is and be a little more worried about the psychotic _alpha_ werewolf who’s _actually_ causing all the problems in this town,” he suggested, voice wavering only a little.   
  
Chris arched an eyebrow, “You say that like you know who the alpha is Stiles,” he slowly cocked his head to the side glaring at the teenager. “Who is it? You want this to end? You want me to take care of the werewolf who’s causing this trouble then tell me who it is.” He said, voice hard.   
  
It was almost laughable, like he thought Stiles was going to try and protect the guy who was going around and murdering people. The guy who’d forced Scott into a life he never wanted. Then again, it meant he had information that Chris didn’t. That Chris needed. And maybe he could use that as a bargaining chip. “I do,” he informed him, lifting his chin a little. “But in return for the information, you and your friends and your family are going to stay away from Scott, and away from Lydia.”   
  
Amusement crossed Chris’ face. “I don’t make deals,” he commented, “And as far as Scott goes,” Chris shifted closer to Stiles getting in his face, “He dated my daughter. He came into my home.” He was quiet for a minute, jaw clenching. “But we have a code and I _never_ break it. As long as your friend hasn’t killed anyone, he’ll be safe until I catch him hurting someone.” Chris told him simply, not bothering to comment about Lydia.   
  
The man’s lack of mention about Lydia didn’t go unnoticed. “Yeah?” He raised his eyebrows, not liking the way Chris had him cornered against the wall. “So, what happens when one of your own _does break_ that code? Like say, when they set an entire family on fire?”   
  
Anger gripped Chris and he grabbed Stiles’ shirt and raised a finger doing his best not to hit the teenager, reminding himself that despite being friends with a werewolf this kid was innocent. “That fire wasn’t us.” Chris’ glare was back, “We don’t break the code, _ever_.” He stated, “I didn’t do that.” he repeated.   
  
“Maybe _you_ didn’t,” Stiles said easily, heart beating more quickly in his chest as he willed himself to stay calm. “Doesn’t mean everyone you know abides by your code.”   
  
Chris’ hand tightened on his shirt. “What is that supposed to mean?”   
  
“It means it’s 11 o’clock. Do you know where your sister is?” he responded, arching his eyebrows.   
  
A frown crossed Chris’ face and second’s later realization hit him. He stepped back from Stiles. Allison was with Kate. If she really was the one who torched the Hale house then that meant she’d broken the code...went rogue. And Kate knew what they did to rogue hunters. He swallowed hard. “How do you know?”   
  
“I put the pieces together. The same way you did and weren’t ready to admit,” Stiles informed him, pushing himself away from the wall. Not much. Not enough to come off as threatening. The expression on Argent’s face told him that he’d suspected it for awhile now.   
  
Chris pursed his lips. He needed to go find Kate and Allison. “We’re not done here,” he said pointing at Stiles. “I’ll be back.”   
  
Stiles had little doubt about that. He watched him go, then slumped back against the wall, rubbing a hand over his face.   
  
Jackson shoved the door open lightly hitting into something and poking his head in, “Jesus what’s taking you so damn long? What the hell was that all about? I just saw Mr. Argent practically run out of here.”   
  
“I told you to _stay_ with Lydia,” he snapped, glaring at Jackson as he moved toward the door. “Can you not do one simple thing?” He shook his head.   
  
Jackson returned the glare, “Where the hell do you get off bossing _me_ around?” He asked, tone annoyed. “This whole thing where you act like you aren’t some kind of loser is really starting to piss me off.”   
  
“And this whole thing where you act like you’re better than everyone else has been pissing me off since first grade. Deal with it,” Stiles shot back, yanking the door open and heading down the corridor toward Lydia’s room.   
  
Jackson shook his head anger building in his chest as he followed Stiles out of the room and back down the hall to Lydia. He paused when he saw Stiles staring through the glass window. “So, what’s your plan? You just going to bust her out of here? Leave and not tell anyone anything? I sorta don’t think she’ll be okay with that.” He said amused.   
  
Stiles rolled his eyes at that. “Does she look like she’s in any shape to go anywhere to you?” he asked, looking at him with thinly veiled annoyance. “The goal is to save her life, not put it in even more danger.”   
  
“It was your dumbass idea.” Jackson snapped, “Look I don’t have time to just wait around here all day. Call me when you’ve got a better plan.” He told him before turning to leave.   
  
Stiles’ hand shot out and grabbed his arm in a firm grip. “You don’t have a choice. It wasn’t a request,” he said bit out.   
  
Jackson glared at Stiles and went to rip his arm away, but the other boys grip was too tight. He glanced at Stiles, “Let go.” He told him, confused by how it was even possible for Stiles’ grip to be that hard.   
  
“You have to stay and watch over her,” Stiles repeated, looking at him intently. “You’re the only other person who _can._ ”   
  
Jackson pursed his lips, “Why can’t you stay?” He asked eyebrows rising, “I can’t just stay here.” He said his chest tightening at his words. He knew he couldn’t just leave...Lydia was hurt and even though it didn’t seem like it, he felt that. He felt it in places he didn’t want to feel it.   
  
“Because I have to go talk to my dad, the sheriff and figure out what the hell I’m supposed to tell him about what happened last night because I can’t tell him the truth. And Scott can’t be here because there are _hunters_ who know what he is now and it’s not safe for him either.”   
  
Jackson glanced down the empty hallway where Allison’s father had gone. “Fine, whatever. I’ll stay. Just hurry the hell up and get back here.” He told him with glare.   
  
Stiles let go of Jackson’s arm, watching him for another moment before heading away. Now the question was: what the hell _was_ he supposed to tell his dad?   
  
______   
  
Allison chewed on her fingernail as she watched Kate watching Derek intently, waiting on the werewolf to wake up from where he was chained and unconscious against the wall. It hadn’t been difficult to talk her aunt into not leaving town. As it turned out, Kate hadn’t really planned on following through on her parents’ plan anyway. Now, though, she wasn’t sure they shouldn’t have left.   
  
On the other hand, she was learning a hell of a lot more about her family than she’d ever known before and it all made her kind of uneasy. Had Derek actually even done anything to hurt someone? Kate had mentioned a code but hadn’t really explained it, saying that sometimes in order to protect, codes had to be broken. That Derek was a dangerous animal and had to be taken care of.   
  
But she wasn’t killing him. She was just...torturing him. Taunting him. Allison felt sick.   
  
Kate glanced between her niece and Derek briefly before smirking. “What do you say we wake him up?” She asked, her tone light, though it wasn’t really a question. Kate moved forward stepping to the left side of the room and walking to the small box she glanced at the settings and turned it halfway up before twisting the knob on.   
  
Derek’s body jerked as electricity shot through him making his eyes pop open and his hand clench at the chains restricting him. Pain reverberated through his entire body and when she finally shut it off he had to stop himself from going limp against the chains. He wouldn’t give her the satisfaction. Small trembles shot through him as his gaze focused on Kate, anger and contempt burning in his eyes and as his chest tightened. How could he have ever trusted the woman in front of him? How could he ever think that she loved him? Derek swallowed hard. “That all you got?” He rasped out.   
  
Allison shut her eyes as Kate electrocuted the werewolf. This was sick. No. It was _beyond_ sick. How the hell was this her life? How was this what her family was like? She opened her eyes again when Derek spoke, a grimace twisting her features, her breathing more shallow than usual. Would Kate do this to Scott if she caught him? Torture him for the hell of it? Was Kate that far gone? Were her _parents?_ She felt ill. She had to do something.   
  
“I think we need coffee,” she told Kate lightly, arching her eyebrows and hoping to distract her for awhile, at least until she could come up with some kind of plan.   
  
Kate glanced at her niece eyebrow arched. “Oh sweetie, we’re not nearly done with this one yet.” She said as she advanced on Derek. “Isn’t that right Derek?” Her tone was sweet as she closed the distance between them, but her eyes told a different story. She pressed a palm flat against Derek’s naked torso. “You know you enjoy the pain,” she whispered.   
  
Derek grunted, his gaze shifting to Allison noticing the disgust on her face and honestly he wasn’t sure if it was directed at him or her aunt. He glanced back at Kate. “Does she know?” He asked voice loud enough for Allison to hear. “Does she know what you did? What you’re doing right now?” He asked curiously. “Does she know her aunt is a crazy homicidal bitch?” He snapped, the hint of a growl in his voice.   
  
Kate glared at him, “I did what had to be done.” She said, “Allison would understand that.” She said simply dropping the subject.   
  
Derek arched a brow, “Oh really? Maybe we should ask her.” He glanced at the teenager, but before he could even open his mouth another shock of electricity ran through his body, making him tense and jerk against the gate. When it stopped he pursed his lips and his stomach clenched, his muscles twitching.   
  
Allison’s stomach turned as she listened silently to the conversation between the two of them. She had no idea what they were even talking about. No clue what was really going on. She put together that her aunt had a history of some kind with Derek Hale, but she didn’t understand how or why.   
  
Kate smirked and glanced at Allison, “Stay here,” she said stepping away from the controls. “I have to go get one of Derek’s favorite toys.” She walked by her niece patting her on the shoulder and stepping towards the door.   
  
Derek watched her go, closing his eyes briefly when she left the room and finally letting his body sag slightly.   
  
Allison watched as Kate left the room, swallowing heavily before turning her gaze back to Derek, eyes wide as he closed his eyes, slumping in the chains that bound him. She wanted to believe that her aunt -- who’d always been more like a sister than an aunt as far as Allison was concerned -- had a good reason for all of this. That Derek had done something terrible, that he somehow _deserved_ what she was doing.   
  
That the aunt that she’d grown up idolizing wasn’t really just out of her _mind._ But she struggled to come up with any reason that would justify what was happening here.   
  
Derek opened his eyes and glanced at Allison, his breathing steady once again. He watched her for a moment before cocking his head slightly. “You’re staring.” He stated.   
  
She didn’t really know what to say, because she _was_ staring. Staring and trying to figure out what she was supposed to do. “What did you mean by what you said to her?” she whispered. “About being homicidal.”   
  
Derek was silent for a minute choosing his words carefully. “Your aunt and I dated in high school.” He paused, “We were in love,” he said letting out a bitter laugh, “I’m sorry _I_ thought we were in love. Turns out my family was right about her all along, which I didn’t see until she burned down my house with my entire family in it.” He said the anger back in his eyes.   
  
“I trusted her, and she killed them all. Even the humans. There were close to a dozen people in that house and her and her hunter friends,” he paused his words cut off by the lump in his throat, but he refused to show weakness in front of an Argent. “The Argents say they have a code, but ever since I came home your father has harassed me, you aunt has shot me, tortured me and _I’m_ the bad guy.” He said his voice hard. “Maybe it’s time you and your family take a good long look at who the monsters really are.”   
  
Tears prickled at her eyes as he spoke and she quickly looked away, not wanting him to see. She wasn’t okay with other people seeing her cry. Especially ones she didn’t even know. The things he was saying about what Kate had done, about what her _family_ did. It fit with what little she knew from Scott. Scott was scared of her dad. And what if next time, Kate had _Scott_ down here, torturing him? Her eyes darted toward the door, heart beating more quickly in her chest as she approached him.   
  
She grabbed the keys to the chains off the desk and didn’t look him in the eyes as she undid his bonds and moved away. “Go,” she said, voice barely audible. “Get out of here.”   
  
Confused crossed Derek’s face as she undid the chains. His body practically fell forward when it slacked, but he caught himself and hopped down, eyeing Allison cautiously. He rubbed his wrists, “Is this some kind of game? You let me go so Kate can hunt me down again?” He asked unable to hide the hint of uncertainty in his eyes, despite the hard tone of his voice.   
  
Allison was probably as confused as he was, truthfully. Maybe more so. “It’s not about you,” she said honestly. “But I don’t know how far she’s going, so you should go before she gets back.” And for that matter, maybe Allison should, too.   
  
Derek watched Allison closely as he shifted on his feet, “If I were you I wouldn’t be here when she gets back. If she thinks you’ve chosen a wolf over family...it won’t be pretty even if you are her favorite niece.” He warned. “I need to go make sure Scott is okay.” He commented and moved around her head for the door, pausing briefly. “Thank you.” He replied gruffly before he was gone.   
  
Allison stood in debate about what to do for a long moment, then grabbed her cell phone off the desk and made her way out of the house. She was going to have to get someone to pick her up. But for now? She was going to hide in the woods. She didn’t _think_ Kate would hurt her on purpose, but she hadn’t thought her aunt capable of the kinds of things she’d been doing, either.   
  
And now? Now she had no idea what she was going to do. At all.


	3. Chapter 3

A steady rhythmic beeping filled the hospital room, the sound drawing Lydia from sleep. Her eyes moved rapidly beneath her lids as she tried in vain to pry them open. She could feel her body waking up and it felt heavy and stiff. What the hell was going on? The thought flew into her head right as she was finally able to slowly flutter her eyes open. Lydia immediately regretted it though when the bright fluorescent light practically blinded her.   
  
Okay, maybe she was being a bit dramatic, but really, what the holy hell was going on? Lydia hesitated before opening her eyes again this time blinking several times as confusion settled on her face. She turned her head slowly to the side, noticing the machines beside her. She was at the hospital. What was she doing in the hospital? Lydia had a dozen questions.   
  
She lifted her hand carefully and pulled off the mask that was on her face before sucking in a sharp breath. A pain shot through Lydia’s side and a soft noise fell from her lips. She groaned and tried to glance down, but wasn’t having much luck. Lydia turned her head and carefully reached for the call button. Her finger made contact with it and once she felt it had been pressed long enough Lydia pulled back and let her eyes fall shut briefly trying to calm herself down as she waited for a nurse or someone to come tell her what the hell was happening.   
  
A few moments later, Melissa McCall appeared in the doorway, a surprised expression on her face. She moved toward the bed, checking over all the machines that Lydia was hooked up to. “Sweetheart, are you awake?”   
  
Lydia’s gaze fluttered again until her eyes were open. She glanced at the woman in front of her and nodded. She swallowed hard to moisten her dry throat and then spoke. “What happened? How long have I been here?” She asked uncertainty   
  
Melissa paused at the questions before giving her a gentle smile and reaching out to pick her wrist up and take her pulse. “You’ve been here about eighteen hours,” she told Lydia. “And we’re not entirely sure what happened.”   
  
Lydia frowned. “How’d I get here?” Eighteen hours was a while. She tried to focus on what had happened, but Lydia was pretty sure whatever medicine they had her on was making her IQ plummet severely.   
  
“Your friend Jackson called for an ambulance,” Melissa said quietly, noting her pulse in her chart. “How are you feeling?”   
  
Jackson had saved her? She tried to reconcile that thought with the fact that Jackson had been anything but nice lately. Then again maybe he was finally coming around. She swallowed hard again. “Tired...achy.” In more pain than she cared to admit.   
  
She smiled sympathetically. “As soon as the doctor comes in to take a look at you, I’ll see about getting you something more for the pain,” she assured her. “Would you like some water in the mean time?”   
  
Lydia nodded hesitating, “Is Jackson still here?” She asked wondering if he even bothered to stick around or if he just dropped her off and was done with it.   
  
“He is, actually. He’s been waiting outside since you were brought in,” she told Lydia. “Would you like me to send him in?” she asked as she poured Lydia a glass of ice water and handed it to her carefully.   
  
Surprise colored her features, but she schooled the expression on her face quickly as she took the water from her and nodded. “Yeah, if that’s okay.” She added before bringing the cup of ice water to her lips and taking another sip.   
  
“It’s fine,” Melissa assured her, moving the rolling tray over closer to Lydia so she could use it to set her drink on when she’s done. “I’ll send him in.”   
  
Lydia sent her half a smile, “Thank you,” she said sincerely as she reached her arm out and placed the water on the tray. She used her hands to shift her body slightly, but winced and decided it was probably a good idea to just stay where she was.   
  
“You’re welcome.” Melissa headed out of the room, pursing her lips as she looked at the kid she now knew to be Jackson Whittemore. The boy who’d tormented Scott and Stiles off and on for years. “She’s awake and asking to see you,” she told him politely before heading away.   
  
Jackson dragged a hand over his face and then rose to his feet, heading slowly into Lydia’s room after glancing at the man who’d been seated in the waiting area since shortly after he’d arrived with Lydia and the ambulance. Argent’s friend.   
  
Lydia tilted her head as Jackson entered the room. Her heart clenched slightly as she studied him for a minute before speaking. “Hey,” she said quietly.   
  
“Hey,” he said back. He was quiet for a moment. “You finally woke up.”   
  
Lydia pursed her lips at his words suddenly feeling uncomfortable. She and Jackson hadn’t exactly been on the best terms before the dance and he didn’t seem thrilled that she was awake. Plus she probably looked like hell. “The nurse said you brought me here,” she commented, “What happened?”   
  
Jackson considered her question for a moment. He could lie to her and tell her he happened to find her on the field. Or he could be honest and let Stilinski deal with it. And since he didn’t particularly _like_ Stilinski, he decided that was his best option. It would get her onto _his_ back instead of Jackson’s. “No clue. Stilinski called me and told me you were hurt on the lacrosse field and he wanted me to come and get you.”   
  
Lydia frowned, “Stilin-you mean Stiles?” She asked confused, “I don’t understand. He just told you I was hurt? How do you not know what happened?” Lydia’s tone had gone from soft to annoyed.   
  
“Uh, because I wasn’t there and when I got there, he wasn’t there either?” Okay, so he knew what happened, but like he was going to tell her about _werewolves._ She’d think he was nuts.   
  
Lydia went to sit up so she could yell at him, and tell him that she wasn’t satisfied with his answer but the movement pulled at her side and she winced, her hand immediately dropping to her side. She sucked in a sharp breath. “Are either of my parents here? Or are you the only one?”   
  
“Your dad was here earlier. I think he went home to nap.” He looked away, a vague sense of guilt flickering through him. Even he knew her parents were shitty parents when it came to being there for her. “Your mom’s on her way home from that conference she was at.”   
  
Of course neither one of them were there. That wasn’t all that surprising. But Jackson had stayed and that was something. Lydia reached out and rested a hand against his arm. “Thanks for bringing me here...and for staying.” Lydia responded. Maybe things were okay between her and Jackson after all.   
  
His expression softened for the briefest of moments. “Yeah, well...it doesn’t mean anything. We’re not getting back together. That’s not what this is.”   
  
Lydia forced herself not to flinch at his words despite the fact that her chest tightened. She pulled her hand away as quickly as her body would allow at the moment. She shook her head. “Then why are you here? If I’m just some ex who you don’t care about?” She asked eyebrow arched. “And honestly Jackson, if that’s the case you should leave and not come back.” She told him matter-of-factly. “Because I’m done with your mixed signals.” Lydia’s voice was confident and held no room for argument, but the truth was she wasn’t either of this things.   
  
“I didn’t say I didn’t care,” he retorted. “I just said we’re not getting back together.” There was a hint of defensiveness in his voice. “Just because I don’t want to date you anymore doesn’t mean I want to see you hurt or dead, Lydia.” He folded his arms across his chest. “But fine, I’ll go.” Screw Stilinski anyway.   
  
Lydia glared at him. “I never said anything about getting back together, I was just saying thank you and you-” she paused her chest tightening. “Great, just go. I don’t need you here.” She told him the beeping on the monitor speeding up as her heartbeat quickened in her chest. Lydia’s stomach muscles clenched making her wound tighten and an acute pain stabbing through her. She closed her eyes briefly to control her emotions not wanting Jackson to see everything he was making her feel.   
  
He looked like he wanted to say something else. Maybe apologize. But Jackson Whittemore didn’t _do_ apologies. He didn’t have to. Not even for her. He strode toward the door, pausing before opening it. “I’m glad you’re gonna be okay,” he said gruffly before yanking it open and vanishing out into the hallway.   
  
Lydia watched him go and she couldn’t quite stop stop the way her expression broke. She turned away from the glass windows looking out into the hospital corridor and squeezed her eyes shut a few tears slipping from them. It didn’t matter that he was gone. Lydia didn’t need Jackson. She was fine all by herself. 

______

  
  
Stiles made his way to his dad’s office, spotting him at his desk looking troubled and on edge. He looked that way far too often anymore for Stiles’ liking. He knocked three times, like always, before stepping inside since there was no one else there and his dad wasn’t on the phone. He already wanted to go back to the hospital to keep an eye on Lydia and make sure she was safe, but he had to do this first. “Hey.”   
  
Michael Stilinski glanced up his gaze sharpening when he spotted his son. He was up and out of his seat in a matter of seconds. He moved around his desk and walked over to his son, a hint of irritation on his face. “Where the hell have you been?” He asked with a frown. “I get to the hospital to find a young girl mauled by some kind of animal only to find out that she was _your_ date.” He said eyeing his son. “What happened with Lydia Martin last night, Stiles, and I want the truth.” He told him pointedly.   
  
He winced at the anger in his dad’s voice, at the disappointment that was so obvious on his face. “I left the dance early because I wasn’t feeling well,” he said, looking down. He _hadn’t_ been feeling well when he’d left the dance with Peter. Or more accurately, been kidnapped by Peter. “I spent the night at Scott’s. I didn’t know that Lydia was even hurt until this morning.”   
  
Michael pursed his lips, his eyes squinting. “So you’re telling me you went on a date with a girl you’ve been in love with since third grade and you left that date early and went home with Scott?” He asked eyebrow arched, “You expect me to believe that?”   
  
Stiles sighed and looked up, meeting his dad’s eyes. “A date that she didn’t want to be on with _me_ to begin with and wandered off to find her ex-boyfriend? Yes. And if you don’t believe me, you can call Scott. You’ll believe him, right?” His voice was flat.   
  
Michael sighed his anger deflating as he hesitantly reached out and rested his hands on his son’s shoulders. “I was worried,” he admitted, “And there’s a lot of pressure to figure out what’s been going on in this damn town lately.” He paused, “I trust you Stiles...but I also know you better than most people and you’re smart and you tend to talk around the truth...you know I’m right.” Michael hadn’t been trying to offend his son, but it was clear he had and that was the last thing he wanted.   
  
“I know, Dad,” he said quietly. And he wasn’t wrong. Stiles had lied to him so many times over the years, and in the last few months he’d been lying even more. This time, though, it was to protect Scott for the most part. And to protect his dad from all the insanity. Not that any of it was really doing that much good. “Do you have any leads on what kind of animal it was?”   
  
Michael studied his son for a minute before sighing and shifting back. He ran a hand over his face and shook his head, “No, not really. Maybe a Mountain Lion or something else, we’re not sure yet,” he admitted as he moved back around his desk. “I’m waiting for Lydia to wake up so I can speak with her and see what she saw.” He explained while sitting back down in his chair.   
  
He chewed his lower lip, nodding. “I was gonna go see her after this.” Not that she was probably going to want to see him, but he needed to make sure that she was safe. “I don’t know if she’s awake yet or not.” He wasn’t even sure she was going to be okay.   
  
Michael arched an eyebrow at his Stiles. “Maybe I’ll come with you. It couldn’t hurt to check on if she was awake or not.” He pointed out before studying in his son again. “You’re sure you’re alright?”   
  
Stiles grew still at the question. Did he suspect? _Of course not, you idiot. He doesn’t know that werewolves are even real, let alone that his son now is one,_ he thought. “Yeah. Still a little off kilter, but I’m okay.”   
  
Michael nodded, “I’m glad you’re feeling better at least.” He said quietly before his gaze shifted to the papers in front of him. “This is going to take me a few minutes to go through and approve.” He told him quietly as he rubbed the back of his neck. “So why don’t you sit down for a couple of minutes and then I’ll follow you to the hospital.” He said glancing up at Stiles as he spoke.   
  
He pushed away the anxiety that was building in his chest and dropped into the chair in front of his dad’s desk, chewing his lower lip. He pulled his phone out and shot a quick text message off to Scott. _With my dad right now. Put Argent on his sister’s trail._   
  
Michael glanced up at Stiles every so often as he signed the papers on his desk. “Everything okay over there?” he asked watching his son text. Stiles seemed tense and Michael supposed it could be because Lydia was hurt and in the hospital, but something told him that wasn’t it.   
  
“Yeah, just texting Scott,” he assured his dad. At least that was the truth.   
  
Michael grunted and sighed the last paper shifting it over to the other pile. “Alright,” he pushed his chair back and stood. “We can head out now.” He told him as he grabbed his jacket before glancing around the desk for his keys. “Where’d I put those damn keys?” He said with a sigh.   
  
A tiny smile touched his mouth, an almost involuntary reaction to the question his dad asked on an almost daily basis at the office, he was pretty sure. “Your spare coffee mug,” Stiles reminded him as he rose to his feet.   
  
Michael’s gaze shifted to Stiles briefly before he reached for his spare mug and grinned lightly when he found his keys sitting inside. “Thanks,” he said while pulling on his jacket and walking back around his desk toward his son. He wrapped an arm around Stiles and guided him out of the office, “So i’ll follow you to the hospital then?” He asked with an arched eyebrow.   
  
“Yeah, sounds like a plan,” he agreed with a small smile, nodding and leaning against his dad.   
  
Michael patted his son’s back frowning slightly when he his hand brushed against Stiles’ neck accidentally and his skin was incredibly warm. “Do you have a fever?” He asked as they walked to the exit.   
  
Stiles’ eyes widened a little. “Uh, maybe? I mean maybe I’m not totally over whatever from last night.”   
  
Michael’s frown deepened. “We should have Melissa take a look at you when we get to the hospital,” he said quietly, guilt filling his chest for being so angry earlier when his son was obviously sick.   
  
He grimaced at that, but didn’t argue. If he argued, that would look suspicious. “Okay but no shots of any kind. No needles.”   
  
Michael chuckled nodding at his son’s fear of needles, “None of that,” he paused, “Unless you need them after Melissa looks you over,” he told him pointedly.   
  
“Nope, not even then,” Stiles responded, giving him a look in return. “I know my rights and one of them includes _not_ being stabbed by pointy needles.”   
  
Michael rolled his eyes as they made their way out of the sheriffs station. He scoffed, “You’re a minor, you have no rights,” he joked.   
  
“Pffft.” He made his way toward his jeep. “See you at the hospital.”   
  
Michael nodded a goodbye at Stiles and got into his police cruiser shaking his head at his son as he started up the truck and headed for the hospital.   


______

  
  
Stiles let out a breath as Melissa informed his dad that while he was running a low grade fever, it wasn’t anything to be too concerned about at this point. That he probably just had some kind of virus that would go away in a couple days. If only, he thought bitterly, rubbing a hand over his face as he slid down off the exam table. “I’m just gonna go see if she’s awake,” he told his dad, slipping past him and Scott’s mom and making his way down the hall toward ICU where Lydia was still being kept, even though she’d been awake now, apparently.   
  
Thank god.   
  
It meant that she’d survived the bite. She was going to be a werewolf like him. Like Scott. He hated Peter Hale so much. He’d read that there was supposedly some kind of connection between an alpha and its pack, but he felt nothing except anger abhorrence for the man. He rubbed a hand over the back of his neck as he made his way toward her room, glancing warily at the hunter who was still planted outside, looking as inconspicuous as possible as he thumbed through a magazine. His jaw tightened ever-so-slightly.   
  
He looked around but didn’t see Jackson at first until he realized that he was sitting farther down the hall, arms folded across his chest and pissed off look on his face. At least he could cross off killing Jackson from his To Do List. He drew in a breath and made his way quietly into Lydia’s room, pausing in the doorway when he saw her sitting up in bed, looking more than a tad unhappy herself. No doubt _because_ of the idiot down the hallway.   
  
“Hi,” he said softly.   
  
Lydia’s head jerked in the direction of the hospital door at the sound of a familiar voice. She spotted Stiles Stilinski standing in the doorway looking uncomfortable and her eyes turned to slits. “You. Get your ass in here and tell me what in the _hell_ is going on. Now, before I get angrier than I currently am,” Lydia demanded shifting in the bed and wincing, her hand falling to her side again. God, she kept forgetting she couldn’t just move around like normal.   
  
His eyes widened a little at that. Okay, not the reaction he’d been expecting, but admittedly not too far off the mark, either. It wasn’t like they were or ever had been friends. Hell, three months ago she hadn’t even known his name and they’d gone to school together since kindergarten. He glanced over his shoulder but didn’t see any sign of his dad coming yet. He slipped inside the room and shut the door. “Look, I know you have a million and one questions,” he whispered. “And I’ll answer what I can, but right now my dad’s gonna be coming down here to ask what you remember.”   
  
Lydia arched an eyebrow, “Oh is he?” She asked her tone edged with sweetness, “Well isn’t that lovely since I can’t remember anything. Except for the fact that according to Jackson _you_ were there and know what happened to me.” Lydia took a deep breath, “I’m in a hospital, my abdomen has been clawed open, which by the way is totally going to leave a scar,” she motioned to said side, “and I’m missing 18 hours of the night, and technically day. Tell me now, or...I’ll do something...bad,” Lydia knew the threat was silly and vague, but she was highly medicated and more tired than one would think after spending 18 hours knocked out.   
  
He swallowed heavily, a stricken look flickering over his features. “There isn’t time to tell you everything, but as soon as my dad leaves, I’ll fill you in. Okay?” He heard his dad’s footsteps coming down the hallway, which wow. That was new. And weird. And unsettling. Also it kind of assured he’d probably never get caught at doing anything bad again he thought, heart beginning to beat a little faster in his chest.   
  
“But-” Lydia’s words were cut off by the door opening. She glanced up and saw Sheriff Stilinski standing by the door, warm smile on his face. Lydia pursed her lips.   
  
Michael glanced briefly at his son before moving further into the room and pausing beside Lydia Martin’s bed. “Hi, Lydia, how are you feeling?” He asked keeping his tone light.   
  
Lydia glanced briefly at Stiles before looking back to the sheriff smiling pleasantly, “At the moment? Quite exacerbated. There seems to be an acute pain coming from somewhere in the general vicinity of my body,” she explained not that he cared. “Can I help you with something?” She asked straightening up in bed even though it hurt to do so.   
  
“I’m sorry you’re in pain,” he said sincerely, taking another couple of steps toward the bed. “I was hoping that maybe you could tell me what you remember from last night.”   
  
Lydia arched an eyebrow. She’d been referring to Stiles being the pain, but his father didn’t need to know that. “Like what happened? Who was there and what kind of animal could possibly have done this to me?” She asked forcing herself not to look at Stiles because honestly she’d love to know the answers to all of those things. “I was on the lacrosse field looking for Jackson.” Lydia admitted.   
  
The sheriff paused at that. “Did you find him?” he asked warily, wondering if maybe this was less of an animal attack than he believed and more of the human kind.   
  
Stiles shifted at the back of the room, chewing his thumbnail and remaining silent for the time being.   
  
Lydia shook her head, “No, before I could,” she paused frowning. Her heartbeat picked up speed, but her expression never changed, “the lights on the field came on and...someone called out my name I think. Screamed, told me to run.” Lydia told him, a hint of uncertainty in her voice.   
  
Stiles looked down immediately, holding his breath. He was glad his dad wasn’t looking at him, because if he had been, he would have known immediately the one screaming at Lydia to run had been him.   
  
“But it...wasn’t Jackson?” The sheriff asked, confused.   
  
Lydia huffed, “I don’t know okay? He said it wasn’t him, that someone else was there.” She told him not bothering to look at Stiles. “Look sheriff, not to be rude or anything, but if I could remember logically don’t you think I would have said something by now so you guys could catch whoever did this?” Lydia didn’t typically make a habit out of lying to the police, but this wasn’t really lying.   
  
Michael pursed his lips, studying her. She was obviously agitated. “I think you would, yes,” he said quietly. “I want to catch whoever or whatever did this to you, Lydia. That’s all.”   
  
Lydia’s gaze finally shifted to Stiles and she watched as he bit his nail, a nervous habit she assumed. “I wish I could remember more.” She offered, and for once her words were true.   
  
“All right. If you do remember anything at all, please call me down at the station,” he told her with a small, worried smile before glancing at Stiles. “Don’t be long. You’re running a fever.” He pointed at Stiles with a knowing look before heading out the door and leaving the two of them alone.   
  
Stiles shut his eyes, leaning back against the wall. Part of him had fully expected her to tell his dad that he’d been there because Jackson had told her. Which reminded him. Killing Jackson? Totally back on his day’s To Do List. He drew in a breath and let it out slowly before looking over at her. “Thanks.” His voice was quiet.   
  
“Don’t thank me. If you don’t tell me what you know, I’m telling your father you were there.” Lydia told him her voice not wavering. Most likely she wouldn’t be saying anything to the sheriff. She’d seen the look on Stiles face and something told her there was a lot more to all of this than she knew. But Stiles didn’t know that.   
  
He rubbed a hand over his face and moved away from the wall, casting a wary glance toward the window and noticing the hunter watching him. He turned away, facing Lydia and leaning against the glass. “You were attacked by a wolf,” he said quietly.   
  
Lydia leaned forward and let out a small noise, her hand going to her abdomen once again. She pursed her lips and swallowed hard. “That’s impossible. California doesn’t have a wolf population. They’ve migrated out over the years besides I,” she hesitated, “It doesn’t make sense...try again.” Lydia demanded as a dull throb started in her side, god she felt nauseous.   
  
He winced at the look of pain that flitted over her face and he moved closer without really thinking about it. And then it dawned on him. “You haven’t healed,” he whispered, blinking a few times. He could still smell blood.   
  
Lydia arched an eyebrow, “Of course I haven’t healed,” she responded her tone incredulous. “I’m not exactly sure what biology class you’ve been in lately, but the lacerations are deep enough that they tore through layers of epidermis, tissues and almost caught muscle. Or maybe it did I can’t remember,” Lydia told him with a wave of her hand.   
  
“I almost _bled out_ in the middle of a field. What in the world would make you think I healed not even two full days later?” She asked eyebrow arched.   
  
Stiles stared at her for a moment. Peter had bitten her. He’d seen it with his own eyes. But she hadn’t healed. She was conscious, talking, and appeared to be getting better. She wasn’t a werewolf. How the hell had she survived an alpha bite if she wasn’t going to turn? He rubbed the back of his neck, looking totally overwhelmed and lost.   
  
“Fever,” he told her, because it was the first thing that came to mind. And she might not believe him, but she’d heard his dad say it, and he was pretty sure his dad was believable. “I have a fever.” He shook his head, forcing himself to take a deep breath. “I know that wolves are supposedly extinct in California, but I’m telling you that’s what I saw. Or maybe it was a coyote. I wasn’t very close when I saw it. It was definitely some kind of canine.”   
  
Lydia hesitated, “I have a bite mark below the scratches,” if they could be called that. She pursed her lips. “A wolf or coyote?” She asked eyebrow arched as she leaned back against the pillows. Why would either be drawn out onto a field? Lydia sighed. Something wasn’t right, but her head hurt and if Stiles was lying she would figure it out eventually.   
  
“Yeah,” he said quietly, torn somewhere between being really relieved that she wasn’t going to be a werewolf and he didn’t have to tell her all of that crap so she’d get dragged even farther into it, and feeling disappointed because there was no reason to tell her the truth. Because knowing the truth would just end up in her getting hurt again, and maybe even worse next time. “I tried to scare it by yelling.” He looked down at the floor.   
  
Lydia sighed. “You’re supposed to stay calm when a wolf attacks,” she commented, “Screaming and running towards someone is not staying calm.” She told him as she studied him, his face facing down. Lydia wasn’t sure why, but again she felt like his words weren’t the whole truth. “Well, thank you...for the warning.” She commented as her eyes closed briefly, just for a minute.   
  
“You should get some rest,” he said softly. He turned toward the door to go, mind still spinning as he wondered what the hell all of it meant.   
  
“Whatever Stiles,” Lydia shifted resting back against the pillows again in an attempt to get comfortable, which wasn’t easy. She was tired of being lied to even if it did seem like he felt bad about not telling her whatever he wasn’t telling her.   
  
Stiles winced at the faint hint of hurt he could hear in her voice and he moved to the door, pulling it open and stepping outside, locking eyes with the hunter that was still guarding her room. His jaw tightened a little and he had to remind himself that he couldn’t just rip the guy’s throat out especially not in the hospital.   
  
But he was going to need a plan, because he was fairly certain that Jackson wasn’t going to just sit there much longer. He drew in a breath and pulled out his cell phone, flipping through his contact list until his finger landed on a name. There was one more person who would be as invested in Lydia’s life and safety as he and Jackson were.   
  
Lydia’s best friend Allison. 

______

  
  
Scott paced the living room of his house glancing every so often out the windows in the living room. It had been hours since he’d heard from Stiles and he was starting to get anxious, which wasn’t typically his default setting. Scott was mostly laid back, but knowing his best friend was out there while hunters were, hunting, well he needed to know his friend was okay.   
  
He was just about to slip his hand into his pocket to call Stiles when the sound of the jeep pulling up outside had him moving to the front door and yanking it open.   
  
Stiles greeted him at the door seconds later. “It’s been an interesting day,” he informed his best friend as he moved past him and inside the McCall household. “In that my dad thinks I’m running a fever, Lydia thinks she was bitten by a wolf or a coyote but she isn’t turning into a werewolf, and Jackson actually followed instructions for the first time...possibly ever.” He turned to look at Scott.   
  
Scott reached out and lightly smack Stiles on the arm. “I’ve been here for hours and you didn’t call to let me know you were alive.” He said with a frown before pausing, “Wait, Lydia isn’t turning into a werewolf? But that’s...that’s not possible unless, oh god, is she not getting better?” he asked knowing how much that would kill Stiles. He gripped his friend’s shoulder and squeezed gently, tabling everything else he’d said for the moment.   
  
“Dude, I texted you,” he pointed out. “Just like, an hour and a half ago.” Which okay, anyone could have done from his phone to loop Scott into a false sense of security, but no one even knew he was a werewolf yet except for Scott and Peter. “Sorry.” He shook his head at Scott’s quick turn into worry. “That’s the thing. She’s getting better. Her wound isn’t healing yet, but she’s awake and she seems _okay._ Which, like, how? Because I thought there were only two options when it came to werewolftitood -- you either turn or you die.” There was definite confusion in his voice.   
  
Scott’s frowned deepened, “A lot can happen in an hour and a half and I have no idea what this means,” he added before wincing. “Other than the fact that there are probably only two people who might be able to answer our questions and you’re not fond of either,” Scott told him as he rubbed the back of his neck.   
  
Stiles grimaced, dropping his head. He was right on that. Peter was actually crazy and Derek was unpredictable, and as far as he was concerned, completely untrustworthy. Neither option was one he liked at all. He bounced on the balls of his feet. “Then I guess I need to start researching and see what I can find.”   
  
Scott pursed his lips. “We’re going to have to talk to him eventually.” He told him quietly. “Somehow I doubt this is an answer we’re going to find researching on the internet.” Stiles had to know that.   
  
“Which him are we talking about here? Because while I’m not a fan of either -- also does crazy actually run in their family because that’s how it seems -- one is slightly better than the other at this point, even if it’s not by a lot. Also I’m starving. Please tell me you have a loaded fridge.” He wasn’t used to feeling this hungry. His Adderall had the rather sucky side effective of appetite killing.   
  
Scott waved his hand for Stiles to follow and headed for the kitchen. “I don’t think Derek is crazy...not really,” he said with a sigh, “But I was talking about Peter.” He stepped into the kitchen. “I don’t want anything to do with him, and I know you don’t either. But as much as I hate to say it, he might have answers that we actually need.”   
  
That stopped him cold and he turned to look at Scott to see if he was joking. “Okay first of all, there are so many things wrong with everything you just said, I don’t even know where to start.” Because he clearly wasn’t joking. And that was sort of terrifying. “Scott, are you _kidding_ me? You want to willingly ask Peter for anything after everything?”   
  
Scott sighed, “I don’t _want_ to ask Peter anything. But there are hunters watching me, watching Lydia. I haven’t heard from Allison, Derek hasn’t returned my calls and we’re running out of options fast. And now on top of all that, you’re a werewolf and Lydia..who know’s what’s happening with Lydia. We sure don’t.” He said shaking his head. “Who else are we supposed to go to for answers?” Scott was slightly desperate at this point and despite the fact that Peter needed to be stopped, they also needed to know what was going on.   
  
“Okay, I talked to Allison. She’s at the hospital with Lydia. She knows what’s going on.” He paused. “And by that I mean she knows she’s not dying from the bite but that she’s also clearly _not_ becoming a werewolf. Kinda hoping she’s going to pass that information along to her dad, but she’s promised to stay with her no matter what.” He let out a breath. “And I have no clue what’s actually going on with Lydia, but right now as long as she’s alive and staying that way, and she’s not cursed, then I’m good with that.” He moved to the fridge, pulling it open and scanning the contents until he laid eyes on leftover lasagna. His stomach growled and he quickly pulled it out, moving over to the counter.   
  
“No one but you knows that I’m a werewolf. I mean, except for Peter. And Allison.” He glanced at Scott sideways before pulling open the silverware drawer and pulling out a knife to the cut the lasagna with. “Which means I’m officially _your_ bodyguard until we come up with a plan that doesn’t involve contacting the same guy who’s been going around killing people and turning other people against their will.”   
  
Scott blinked as he watched his friend moving around the kitchen for a plate, fork, and something to cut the lasagna with. He shook his head, “No one tells me anything. Remind me, which one of us has been a werewolf longer?” he asked a hint of amusement in his gaze as he walked over to the table and sat down glancing at his friend. It seemed like Stiles had thought of everything.   
  
“Okay, you might have been a werewolf longer, but I’m still the guy with the plan,” Stiles pointed out. “Actually so far these plans have worked out. Huh.” He paused at that, considering and then shrugging it off. “You want food or not?”   
  
“I always want food.” Scott told him before his shoulders slumped. “So, Allison’s at the hospital huh?” He asked keeping his tone light. She hadn’t called him and he knew that meant she hadn’t been able to. He was glad she was still in town though, but he wished he knew what was happening with her.   
  
He cut two large pieces of lasagna and set each one on a plate before sticking the first plate into the microwave after covering it with a plastic lid to keep it from exploding or making a mess. Then he turned to look at Scott, sighing a little. “We’ll figure out how to get you to her or vice versa soon, okay?”   
  
Scott nodded. “This whole thing is a mess, plus if that wasn’t bad the full moon will be here before we know it,” he glanced at Stiles, “And we need to find a way to keep you grounded...or find a better place to lock you up than we locked me up.” He said with a wince.   
  
Stiles grimaced, too. “Admittedly, handcuffing you to the radiator wasn’t my best plan.” He sighed, rubbing a hand over his face. “We have six days til the next full moon.” Which really wasn’t much time at all. “My house is out. My dad’s off that night, which means he’ll be at home.”   
  
Scott nodded. “I don’t know what shift my mom has that night, it’s too soon,” he commented and then ran a hand through his hair. He hesitated. “You said you didn’t tell Lydia the truth, right?” He asked as his gaze shifted to his best friend.   
  
He looked away. “No. I didn’t. But I’m pretty sure she knows I lied to her.”   
  
Scott pursed his lips. “You know...Maybe it wouldn’t be so bad if she knew. Lydia’s got a big house. One that’s empty a lot more often than it’s occupied.” He responded, “I mean Allison knows, and Jackson.” He hesitated, “Would it be so bad if she did too?” Plus then Stiles wouldn’t have to lie to her anymore and just many they’d have somewhere to hide out on the full moon.   
  
He turned to look at Scott dubiously. “You’re asking if I think it would be bad if Lydia Martin knows that A) werewolves are real, B) we’re both werewolves, and C) if we hid out at her house on full moons.”   
  
Scott scratched the back of his head, “Well when you put it like that it sound crazy,” he said with a roll of his eyes. “But you’re always the one saying there’s more to Lydia than what we see. You’re constantly saying how smart she is and how’s she’s not such a bitch or whatever,” he finished quickly.   
  
“Allison’s best friend’s with her so she must see some of the same qualities you do. Look it was just something to consider okay?” He lifted his brows at his friend, “We’re running severely low on options.”   
  
“Okay, I do still maintain there’s more to her than what people see. I don’t think getting her even more involved in this nightmare than she already is, is a great life plan for her.” His voice grew quiet and he let out a breath as the microwave beeped. He pulled the plate out and pressed it into Scott’s hands, handing him a fork. “Sit. Eat.” He popped the next plate into the microwave and set the timer as he chewed on his thumbnail.   
  
Scott took the plate from Stiles and placed it on the table. “You realize you don’t have to take care of me right?” he joked, “I’m capable of feeding myself. And I don’t need a bodyguard. I’m at least 80 percent sure Allison’s dad isn’t going to randomly kill me in the middle of the day.” He said as he lifted the fork.   
  
“Okay, I heated up your food, I’m not actually feeding you and playing the airplane game to get you to eat. The correct response is, ‘Thanks, Stiles, you’re the best.’” He rolled his eyes. “And the fact that you’re not 100 percent sure is what makes me uneasy. I don’t trust him. We don’t know what he might do. Besides his sister’s out there somewhere doing god only knows what, but whatever it is? Probably isn’t good. And there’s also all the other random hunters that are apparently lingering.”   
  
Scott smirked, “Would you like to play the airplane game? I promise not to accidentally bite your hand off, though your reflexes are probably as good as mine now,” he commented thoughtfully before taking a bite of lasagna. He knew Stiles was right about the Argents, minus Allison. Scott was worried about them too, but he wasn’t going to let them run his life. Today would be the last day he hid himself away because of them.   
  
Stiles rolled his eyes again, pulling his food out of the microwave before dropping down into the chair across from him. “You should be a comedian,” he said wryly, shoveling a huge bite of lasagna into his mouth.   
  
Scott grinned as he ate in companionable silence with his friend putting his worries aside for the moment and enjoying his mom’s left over food.


	4. Chapter 4

Lydia flinched at the bright lights her head whipping around searching the field as a slight chill prickled at her skin. She shivered slightly, confusion filling her. Who had turned on those lights? And why did they all seem like they were facing her. It was so bright she could barely see in front of her. Lydia stepped forward hesitantly and spotted the silhouette of a figure walking towards her.  
  
“Jackson? Jackson is that you?” Lydia took another step forward pausing when she heard someone screaming her name. Her body froze at the fear in the persons voice, no in _Stiles’_ voice. She turned her hair whipping around her head as she spotted him clearly running towards her, his legs moving fast.  
  
Lydia frowned, her body tensing, stomach dropping. She turned and the sight of blood red eyes and a misshapen jaw widening made her fumble back in her heels and let out a loud shrill scream. Lydia’s sweat soaked body jerked awake, still screaming. Her heart monitor beeped loudly around her, the other machines frantically sounding as well, the noises in her darkened room going bonkers as she glanced around wildly breathing heavy.  
  
A sharp stab of pain tugged at her side where the bite throbbed below the gashes there. Lydia sucked in a sharp breath a soft noise falling from her throat, tears gathering in her eyes as she tried to slow the rapid beating of her heart by taking long deep breaths, which wasn’t all that easy with her wounds.  
  
“Lydia?” Allison’s voice was sleepy as she sat up in the chair she’d passed out in the previous night beside her best friend’s hospital bed. She rubbed a hand over her eyes and rose to her feet, moving closer. “Are you okay?”  
  
The sound of Allison’s voice made Lydia’s head turn and she frowned slightly. She hadn’t even seen Allison sitting there. She swallowed hard and nodded with as much dignity as she could muster. “Yeah, I’m fine...just,” she paused running a hand through her hair, “just a strange dream everything is fine though.” Lydia added again while shifting in bed attempting to find a comfortable position.  
  
She frowned deeply, reaching out and smoothing Lydia’s hair back from her face. “You’re in a lot of pain,” she murmured. “Do you want me to get a nurse and see if they can give you anything?”  
  
“No,” Lydia said quickly and then pursed her lips. “I’m okay, it’s not too bad,” She told her best friend with half a smile. The truth was, the pain was pretty terrible, but the more medication they gave her, the more she slept and the less clear things were, which admittedly was normal. The pharmaceuticals used to tamper pain within the body also affected reaction times, memory, and a slew of other things. But Lydia had a feeling she was finally starting to remember what happened the other night and she wasn’t going to take a chance that taking more medicine would affect that.  
  
If being in pain meant remembering what people were obviously hiding from her, then she was okay with that.  
  
Allison watched her for a moment, nodding even though she didn’t believe her for a second. “Okay. Do you want a drink or anything?” She’d been sitting with Lydia for nearly thirty-six hours, since Stiles had called her and shortly after she’d fled the basement of the Hale house where her aunt had been torturing a captive werewolf. She’d already talked to her dad, who wasn’t thrilled that she was lingering at the hospital, and her mom was even less thrilled about it. But she’d pointed out that if Lydia’s body wasn’t healing -- because Aunt Kate had explained how this worked -- that Lydia obviously wasn’t a werewolf.  
  
The hunter that she recognized vaguely from her dad’s contacts had finally left around hour twenty-eight. She hoped that meant they realized that Lydia wasn’t a threat. Because she wasn’t. And Allison wasn’t going to accept that her best friend was being watched and treated like prey of some kind when she hadn’t done anything wrong. It wasn’t her fault that an alpha werewolf had attacked her.  
  
Lydia nodded, “Some water would be great,” she shifted slowly pushing herself up so her back was resting against the pillows. “I didn’t realize you were still here...I must have been asleep for a while.” If she was being honest the last thing she really remembered clearly was talking with Stiles and the sheriff. She vaguely remembered Allison getting to the hospital; at least she thought she did.  
  
“Yeah, you were,” Allison agreed as she moved around the bed and poured her friend a glass of water. “Quite awhile actually.”  
  
Lydia frowned, “I suppose my body is trying to heal,” she commented as she watched her friend. “Has anyone else been here?” She asked hesitantly knowing better than to get her hopes up.  
  
“Your parents were here for awhile, but your mom...had to go back to her conference,” she said softly, holding the glass out to her. “Your dad didn’t leave until a few hours ago.”  
  
Lydia took the glass from Allison and smiled. “Well work’s important,” she said as she took a sip of the water to keep from sighing. She watched her best friend for a minute before resting the glass against her thigh. “Hopefully they’ll let me out of this place soon,” she commented as she raised her free hand and rubbed her head, a dull throbbing starting there.  
  
“I meant to ask, what happened to you at the dance? One minute you were there and then you weren’t.” Lydia said lightly.  
  
Not as important as their daughter, Allison thought, pained. Her cheeks flushed at Lydia’s question. “Oh. Well, Scott and I went off to...be alone for awhile.” Which was technically true.  
  
Lydia arched an eyebrow a grin spreading across her face. “Well at least one of us had a good night.” She commented though her night wasn’t exactly terrible until the whole being attacked thing. “Tell me about it,” Lydia said as she took another sip of her water.  
  
Allison smiled involuntarily, ducking her head. Up until the moment that her dad and his friend had tried to smash Scott between their vehicles, it had been a very good night. “I think we’re back together,” she admitted, tucking some hair behind her ear.  
  
Lydia glanced at the ceiling briefly before rolling her eyes, “Well of course you are. It was bound to happen,” she responded. And she was happy for Allison. Even if things weren’t going to work out with her and Jackson, which they obviously weren’t, she was glad at least one of them could be happy. “Did you guys have a nice time at the dance?”  
  
“Yeah, it was good,” she told Lydia. “I mean he had to sneak in and everything, because of his grades and being banned, but it worked out okay.”  
  
Lydia nodded, “That’s good.” She said her finger moving over the glass slowly. She was quiet for a minute before sighing. “Can I ask you something?”  
  
Allison lifted her gaze to look at Lydia, nodding. “Yeah, of course.”  
  
“You didn’t happen to see anyone at the dance last night that didn’t belong...did you?” Lydia frowned trying to recall the silhouette from her dream. “Someone older maybe or I don’t know,” she shrugged.  
  
It was a good thing that Allison had a great poker face. She could thank sneaking around with Scott for that one. “No? Not that I can recall. Why?”  
  
“I just,” Lydia paused a frown marring her features. “I remember someone else there. At least I think I do. I can’t see his face, but,” Lydia stopped talking and shook her head, “You know it’s crazy. Just forget it. These drugs are doing strange things to my head. I’ll just be happy when I can get the hell out of here and go home.”  
  
Allison reached out and laid a hand on her shoulder. “Someone at the dance, or somewhere else?’ she questioned quietly.  
  
Lydia met Allison’s gaze. She was quiet for a minute before breaking the silence in the room. “Someone on the lacrosse field. There was someone there Allison. I can feel it. I know he was I just...don’t know what--who it was,” Lydia corrected because as frightening as the image of glowing red eyes were, there was no such thing. It had to have been a trick of the light.  
  
Allison felt her stomach turn into a knot, because she knew Lydia was right. There had been someone on that field. Peter Hale. The reason she was in the hospital to begin with. “Can you remember what he looked like?”  
  
Lydia shook her head quickly and looked away from her friend. “No,” she wasn’t about to tell Allison about what she saw in her nightmare. The last thing she needed was her best friend thinking she was nuts. “It was too bright to see anything,” she repeated what she’d told the sheriff, “And according to Stiles it was a wolf,” Lydia told Allison though it was clear by her tone she didn’t buy the explanation for a minute.  
  
She fell silent at that, a troubled expression on her face. “But you don’t think it was?” she asked after a moment.  
  
Lydia glanced back over at Allison. “No, I don’t.” She simply. It was something much more complicated, something that didn’t make sense and something she couldn’t name despite everything she’d ever read. Whatever had happened out on that lacrosse field was the key, and Lydia wasn’t going to stop until she figured it out.

 

______

  
  
Derek grunted as he made his way up Scott’s porch, annoyance on his face. His pants were ripped, his boots were full of mud and his naked torso still hadn’t finished healing so it was marred with scratches, blood, dirt and several small holes from where Kate had shoved things laced with wolfsbane into his body. Not that he was surprised by that, more like mildly annoyed that he couldn’t even change his clothes and conk the fuck out while he healed.  
  
No, instead he was walking around Beacon Hills in the middle of the night trying to hide from his psychotic ex. The worst part was it seemed like the only place he might be marginally safe for the time being was with a teenager who couldn’t manage not to repeat the same mistakes Derek himself had made. Then again Allison Argent had been the one to let him go. Maybe he’d judged the other girl too harshly. But still she was an Argent and at some point it would come down to her family or them and Derek knew enough now to know in a real fight Argent’s always stuck with family.  
  
He paused in front of the front door cocking his head to the side and listening for heartbeats wanting to make sure Scott’s mom wasn’t home. When he only heard one he reached out and knocked on the door, blood dripping from his arm, face and part of his chest.  
  
Scott moved toward the door, shaking his head. “Stiles, you have a _key_ , dude, you don’t have to --” He opened it, shock coloring his features at the sight of Derek standing there half naked and very injured. “What the hell happened to you?” he asked as he stepped aside to let the older werewolf in, eyes wide.  
  
Derek stepped inside, “Kate Argent,” he spat the name, the burn in his muscles spreading as the wolfsbane seeped into the open wounds. Once he was inside he shifted on his feet. “There was nowhere else to go. She’s most likely got people searching the woods for me by now and since she was holding me beneath my old house I figured probably not a great idea to go back there defenseless.” He grunted again, “I need time to heal.”  
  
He looked at Derek worriedly. “Yeah, okay. My mom’s still at work so you can just crash in the guest room. Now I understand why you weren’t answering my calls or texts.” His voice was troubled.  
  
“Yeah, sorry about that. I was too busy attending my daily torture session with everybodies favorite hunter femme fatale.” He grumbled before pausing, “Thanks for letting me,” he motioned around saying the words begrudgingly. It was the second time he’d had to thank someone in less than twenty-four hours. Derek didn’t do ‘thank you’s’.  
  
He grimaced. “Are you all right?” he asked uncertainly. “Do you need like, food or water or something?” He’d never actually been tortured so he wasn’t sure what the older werewolf might need in order to recover.  
  
“I’m fine.” Derek paused, “I could use a shirt and a bathroom.” Probably food, but he could find that on his own later when he was healed enough to go back to the woods. He hesitated, “And for the record, I appreciate what your girlfriend did. But...I still don’t trust her. She’s an Argent and right now I’m not feeling too many warm feelings towards them,” or ever really.  
  
Scott’s eyebrows furrowed at the comment about Allison. “What are you talking about? What did Allison do?”  
  
Derek’s brows drew together, “She didn’t tell you?” He asked before turning around fully to face Scott. “Kate left to presumably get more things to torture me with and Allison let me go.” Derek pursed his lips. “It probably would have taken longer for me to get out of there alone,” if he’d been able to get out at all. But that was something Derek didn’t feel like thinking about at the moment.  
  
“No, I haven’t actually talked to her in a couple days? Things have been kind of...crazy.” Largely thanks to Derek’s uncle Peter, but for now he didn’t say that. Derek had obviously been through a lot.  
  
Derek arched an eyebrow. “That’s odd, usually I can’t find you without her.” He commented. He studied the teenager in front of him. “What’s going on?”  
  
He looked down tiredly, rubbing the back of his neck. “Peter attacked Lydia at the winter formal. She’s in the hospital.” Recovering, thankfully, and not a werewolf.  
  
Derek took a step forward, “What? Since when is he going after random people?” He frowned. The Martins didn’t have anything to do with what happened ten years ago. It wasn’t that Derek condoned what his Uncle was doing, but he understood the need for vengeance, the need to make someone pay. But in Derek’s eyes the only two people who deserved to die for what happened was Kate...and him. “Damn it,” he shook his head, “He’s trying to create a pack...that has to be what he’s after because Kate is back and Chris called in more hunters.” He swore under his breath.  
  
Scott’s jaw tightened. “Yeah, well if he’d stop targeting people I care about, that would be great.” There was more than a hint of anger in his voice. “Because he didn’t stop with Lydia.” He looked away. “He gave Stiles an ultimatum. Either he took the bite or he’d kill her right in front of him.”  
  
Derek closed his eyes, memories of high school and Paige flashing through his head. Pain invaded his chest and he shoved it aside swallowing hard. “Did their bodies reject the bite?” He asked quietly.  
  
“Lydia hasn’t turned. The bite hasn’t healed. But she’s recovering,” he informed Derek. He sighed, rubbing his hand over his face. “Stiles is fine.”  
  
Confusion crossed Derek’s face. “Lydia isn’t dying?” How was that even possible? Either the bite took and you were a werewolf or the body rejected it and you were dead. There was no in between. He paused, “And Stiles...is like you now.” He said with huff.  
  
Derek pursed his lips. “I’m sorry Scott; no one deserves to have the choice taken away from them. But I didn’t know he was going to do that. I have no idea what he’s up to or what the hell he’s trying to accomplish.” He said with a frown. He’d been an idiot to try and help his uncle after everything, including Peter killing Laura. Derek had made a mistake. He wouldn’t make the same one again.  
  
“No, they don’t.” He was quiet for a long moment. “You should go upstairs and lie down. I’ll get you a shirt and something to drink. Bathroom’s the first door on the left.”  
  
Derek pursed his lips and nodded, turning and heading for the stairs. Peter was constantly turning his life upside down and ten years later he was still doing the same damn thing. He needed to be stopped once and for all. It was time.  


_______

  
  
It was a little after Midnight that night when Stiles made his way through the quiet hospital corridors. He knew Melissa was working that night, and that even if she caught him, which would be more difficult now than before considering his heightened sense of hearing, she wouldn’t give him too much trouble considering what he was doing.  
  
He wasn’t planning to stay or anything. He just wanted to slip in and out without anyone noticing him, really.  
  
He carried the crystal vase carefully, relieved when he saw that the hunter outside of Lydia’s room was gone now, no sign of him or anyone else anywhere around. Good. Apparently Allison had done what he’d hoped. He peered into the window and then slipped quietly into the dark room, chewing his lower lip and moving to set the vase of flowers down by the window. He was surprised there weren’t any already there. People at school knew she’d been hurt, but no one had thought to send her flowers? Not even her parents? He frowned, not liking that, but it wasn’t like he could do anything about it either. There was a lot he couldn’t do anything about. As soon as he set the vase down, he turned and headed just as quietly back toward the door.  
  
Lydia had watched him come into the room, more quietly than she’d expected from him. His gaze had lingered around the empty room and she had briefly wondered what he was looking for. When she saw him heading for the door she spoke, voice quiet heartbeat steady. “Sneaking in and out of people’s hospital rooms after visiting hours is a little creepy, even for you Stiles.” She’d been up for over an hour. Without the medicine she wasn’t sleeping as well and though her body was relaxed and calm for the moment, it was hard to sleep with the pain.  
  
Maybe that whole heightened sense of hearing didn’t really matter so much after all. He flinched at the sound of her voice, a guilty expression on his face as he slowly turned to face her. “I wasn’t trying to be creepy.”  
  
Lydia arched an eyebrow, “The expression on your face says you were being a little creepy.” She commented. Her eyes had adjusted to the darkness of the room, plus there was light coming through the glass window from the hallway. Lydia shifted onto her back and glanced at the vase of flowers. She was silent for a minute. “They’re pretty.”  
  
“I wasn’t…really sure what kind of flowers you liked,” he admitted after a moment, his voice quieter than usual.  
  
Lydia laughed softly, “Believe it or not, orchids. Ballet Slipper Orchids to be exact,” she admitted, not that anyone had ever asked. The smile dropped her face a minute later. “Why are you here?” She asked her tone calm, more curious than annoyed.  
  
Stiles blinked, surprised by her words, considering those were the flowers he’d gotten her. He watched her smile slip away into something else. Something more akin to wariness. “I just wanted to bring those by,” he said softly. “That’s all.”  
  
Lydia watched him for a minute and then sighed. “Still sticking to the wolf story then?” She asked, Lydia didn’t pack any punches. She called it like it was and she’d be lying if she said she wasn’t annoyed that Stiles was lying to her. Wasn’t he supposed to be one of the nice guys or something?  
  
“Like I said, it could have been a coyote.” He rubbed the back of his neck. “Have the doctors said how much longer it’ll be before they’ll let you go home?”  
  
Lydia shook her head. “No, they haven’t, though I’m not sure why you’d care.” She told him shifting away from him and wincing, biting the inside of her cheek to keep from making any noise. Lydia rested a hand on her side gently and swallowed hard. “You should go, thanks for the flowers.” She said trying to hide the strain in her voice.  
  
“Because I _do_ care,” he said, shaking his head. She had no idea how much he cared. “Do you think this is what I wanted? For you to get hurt? Because I promise you, that’s the _last_ thing I’ve literally _ever_ wanted, Lydia.”  
  
Lydia closed her eyes. She could hear the truth in his words and despite the fact that it made her heart warm slightly she took a shallow breath and spoke quickly. “It’s fine Stiles. I know you didn’t. Look you’ve done your due diligence and checked in on me, brought flowers.” She paused as another sharp pain pulled at her, “It’s more than I expect so we’re fine everything’s good.” Lydia kept her eyes shut, her heartbeat picking up speed as her chest tightened. If she didn’t calm down all the muscles in her body were going to tense up, which would only make the pain worse.  
  
His chest tightened and he squeezed his eyes shut at the sound of heartbeat increasing. He was upsetting her and she was in pain. Everything couldn’t be farther from fine for either of them. “I’m sorry,” he whispered, heading for the door with a pained expression on his face.  
  
Guilt filled Lydia’s chest at his whispered words and before she could stop herself she spoke, “Stiles,” Lydia paused mentally berating herself for the momentary weakness she was about to exhibit, “If I changed my mind and told you to stay for a minute, would you?” She posed the question as her eyes fluttered open.  
  
Stiles’ hand froze on the door handle and he turned to look at her over his shoulder. “Of course,” he said quietly. “If you want me to stay for a minute, I will.” He bit his lip, hesitantly letting his hand fall away from the door and moving over to the chair by her bed.  
  
Lydia carefully shifted back into the position she’d been in when Stiles first walked into the room. She took a few deep breaths to slow her breathing as she worked on releasing the tension in her body. The acute pain started slowly ebbing away leaving a dull throb in it’s wake. “I don’t know why you’re lying to me.” She told him not giving him a chance to say anything before continuing. “But you’re pretty much the only person who’s stopped by to see me outside of Allison. So just this once I’m going to give you a pass.” She commented. “But when I get out of this hospital that pass ends.” Lydia said matter-of-factly.  
  
He wasn’t entirely sure what that meant, really. If she meant that she’d accept his presence for the time being -- momentarily -- but once they were back at school, once they were back to normal -- as if he even knew what that was anymore -- they were back at Square One. And of course they would be. They weren’t friends. They’d never been friends. They’d never been _anything_. “Okay,” he said, looking down as he sat in the chair.  
  
“Don’t look so morose,” Lydia commented, “You’re not the one in a hospital bed.” She joked. She glanced in his direction, “So, are you the one who made Jackson stay? Because he certainly didn’t want to be here.” Lydia asked eyeing him. She wasn’t as dumb as everyone thought and now she knew Stiles knew that too.  
  
“Yeah, I’m sure that Jackson would listen to anything I suggested,” he responded, shrugging. It was almost disturbing how easy it was for him to lie. But it was true -- if he hadn’t gripped just a little too firmly onto Jackson’s arm, he never would have listened. He’d scared the other guy, even if it was just a little. Even if he didn’t know why exactly he was scared. Why he _should_ be scared.  
  
Lydia pursed her lips and looked away from him glancing over towards the door. “The pain’s mostly subsided now,” she commented, “If you want to go you can. You don’t need to stay anymore. I’m fine on my own.” Lydia told him lightly.  
  
“I’m sure you are,” he said after a moment. “But I don’t have to go. I mean, I don’t...exactly have anything going on.”  
  
Lydia glanced at Stiles again contemplating his words. “No, I guess you don’t.” If she could have flipped her hair at the moment she would have, but honestly she didn’t even want to know what she looked like. “Where’s your other half, I heard he and Allison are back together.” Lydia commented as she eased back against the stiff hospital pillows.  
  
“Don’t you ever get tired of doing that?” he asked, watching her intently in the darkness.  
  
Lydia arched an eyebrow, “Doing what?”  
  
“Pushing people away. Pretending to be something you’re not.” He pursed his lips.  
  
Lydia opened and closed her mouth, “I-I don’t know what you’re talking about. What you see is pretty much what you get.” She told him even as her heartbeat stuttered slightly in her chest. “Sorry you don’t like what you see,” Lydia said snippily.  
  
Stiles leaned forward in the chair, arching his eyebrows. “And you know what I think? I think you’re as big of a liar as I am,” he said softly. “But it’s okay. I get it. We all have our own demons to deal with. Maybe one day you’ll see you don’t have to do it alone.”  
  
Lydia held Stiles gaze her chest tightening at his words. “You don’t know anything about me,” she whispered, her words weren’t angry though and the mask that she held onto so tightly cracked for the briefest of moments. “Maybe this is just who I am, did you ever think of that Stiles? And maybe everything you said at the dance,” because she remembered every word, “Maybe you were just imagining all of that.”  
  
“And maybe...I know more than you’d like for me to,” he told her quietly. “Maybe I actually pay attention.” Because maybe that was what he was good at. Focusing on the details that no one else bothered to look for. He liked to think he got it from his dad.  
  
Lydia studied Stiles for a minute and then broke the gaze looking down at her hands. “Maybe.” She said quietly. “I’m getting tired now.” Lydia said simply.  
  
“Okay.” He rose to his feet. “Goodnight, Lydia.” His voice was soft and he turned and head for the door.  


______

  
  
Stiles made his way toward the McCall’s house. Right now he figured it was for the best if he stuck close to Scott for two reasons -- he had no idea how to control his werewolf crap yet -- and because there were hunters out there who would love to turn Scott into a werewolf skin rug. And since neither of those things was good, he figured safety in numbers was the best plan they had. He looked from the tree in front of the house to Scott’s window on the second floor. He’d climbed it a thousand times over the years, when it was in the middle of the night and he couldn’t sleep or they were going to sneak out or something.  
  
But now he could probably make it up there _without_ the tree at all. Weird.  
  
He thought about trying it just to see if he actually could, but he could hear two heartbeats inside the house -- which he was pretty sure was never going to stop being weird. And if he happened to fall or something, he didn’t want to risk waking up Melissa if she was there. So front door it was. He pulled his keys out of his pocket, searching through them until he located the one to the McCall house and unlocked the front door quietly, stepping inside. “Scott?” he whispered.  
  
“In here,” Scott called from the living room. He was sitting on the couch leaning forward, arms resting against his knees. He glanced briefly at the clock and glanced over at the hallway where Stiles was standing, “You were gone awhile, everything okay?” He asked while straightening up, trying not to come off as tired as he was, though Scott knew Stiles would know anyway.  
  
“Yeah, everything’s fine,” he assured him, glancing at the clock when Scott did, then looking back at his friend. “I just…” He sighed and moved over, dropping down beside him on the couch. “Kinda delivered some flowers to Lydia.”  
  
Scott smiled at that. “Yeah?” He asked as he leaned back against the couch, “She like them?” He asked knowing how much his best friend cared about the red head. He knew it had to be hard on his best friend seeing her in the hospital like that especially after everything.  
  
“Mostly I think she was annoyed by my existence,” he said wryly, laying his head back against the cushions.  
  
Scott sent his best friend half a smile, “Well, that’s progress right? At least she knows you exist?” he joked knowing Stiles had been trying to get Lydia’s attention for years now.  
  
Stiles snorted. “Okay you need sleep. I’m here to guard the door.”  
  
Scott arched an eyebrow, “I’m not heading to bed just yet and I don’t need a guard dog,” he said pointedly. “I doubt hunters are going to come into the house. Besides...I’m waiting for Allison to text me back.” Scott admitted.  
  
“You’re exhausted,” Stiles said with a frown. “When’s the last time you _did_ sleep?” He shook his head. “And you don’t know. Maybe that’s like, the move we won’t see coming. Except I’ll see it coming if I’m guarding the door.” He sighed. “Okay fine. Turn your phone’s volume up and you’ll hear it if she does?”  
  
Scott chuckled, “You’re stubborn,” he stated though that wasn’t news. He was silent for a minute glancing at the stairs briefly before looking back at Stiles. “Derek is here.” He told his friend quietly.  
  
He sat up at that, eyes widening. “ _What?_ Why?”  
  
Scott pursed his lips, “He had nowhere else to go,” he said keeping his tone quiet as he leaned forward knowing if Derek was awake he’d be able to hear them either way. “He was in bad shape...I couldn’t just leave him out there to fend for himself.” Derek might not be their favorite person, but Scott wouldn’t feel right letting him die.  
  
Stiles frowned, confused. “Dude, what are you talking about?” he asked, shaking his head.  
  
Scott opened his mouth, but before he could say anything the sound of footsteps on their stairs drew his attention to the doorway.  
  
Derek appeared seconds later. “He’s talking about the Argents and their torture first ask questions later methods.” He said before leaning against the doorframe and studying Stiles.  
  
Stiles shifted his attention in Derek’s direction. “Let me guess. Aunt Kate.”  
  
Derek made a noise of affirmation, but stayed leaning against the doorframe. “She’s not a happy camper,” he commented, still studying Stiles. “And you, are the changes happening yet?”  
  
“If you’re asking if I can suddenly hear things I shouldn’t be able to hear and if I’ve suddenly become a lot more stealthy than I used to be, yes.”  
  
Derek arched an eyebrow and Scott sighed.  
  
“Guys we need to figure out what to do here. I need to go back to school and my mom is eventually going to come home. And then there’s Lydia. Plus Peter is still out there somewhere probably plotting.” Scott said glancing back and forth between them, “We need to figure out how to deal with that.”  
  
Stiles rose to his feet, chewing his thumbnail as he began to pace the length of the McCall’s living room. “We may be able to kill two birds with one stone,” he said, casting a glance at Scott and then at Derek.  
  
Scott straightened up, “What do you mean?” He asked brows drawing together.  
  
Derek held his tongue, but he cocked his head to the side signaling that he was listening.  
  
He was pretty sure that neither of them were going to like this plan. But it was logical. It was dangerously perfect in its devious simplicity. And if it worked, they might just be home free on a couple of fronts. Maybe even for awhile. “We give Chris Argent the name of the alpha. And by we I mean me, since I’m the only one he doesn’t actually know about.”  
  
Derek and Scott both frowned, their expressions amusingly similar. Scott scratched the back of his neck, “I don’t love the idea of you going out there alone,” he said quietly.  
  
“And what’s to stop them from going after Scott or me even after they kill Peter?” Derek asked with lifted brows.  
  
“Even if it only takes care of Peter, at least we won’t have to worry about a psychotic alpha wandering around town ripping people’s throats out or biting people,” he pointed out. “Plus it isn’t like they don’t already know about the two of you.” He glanced over at Scott, acknowledging his statement. “But they _don’t_ know about me. I’m the only one who can do this.”  
  
Scott sighed. “I know it’s the best plan, I just worry that something will happen.” He explained, but he also knew this had to be done. Scott glanced at Derek and he shrugged.  
  
“If your friend wants to possibly get himself killed, then that’s his problem,” Derek said lightly.  
  
Stiles rolled his eyes. “If you have a better plan, feel free to speak up, Sour Wolf.”  
  
Derek glanced at Stiles, “Keep it up with the wolf jokes, I’m sure you’ll see just how amusing they’re not eventually,” he commented with half a smirk.  
  
Scott pressed his lips together. “Guys come on. Focus. Peter, the Argents.”  
  
Stiles bit back a comment about getting a sense of humor, because right then he was too on edge to have one himself. He drew in a deep breath, focusing on Scott again. “Do you have another idea?” His voice was quieter, more kind and patient with Scott than it had been with Derek.  
  
Scott shook his head. “I don’t.” He said with a sigh, “But for the record I think you should at least let me come so you’re not on your own.” He told his friend. Scott knew Stiles plan was the best they had, but he felt like his friend wasn’t protecting himself enough.  
  
“Scott, it’s dangerous,” he said quietly, even if he understood where he was coming from. He was trying to protect Stiles the same way that Stiles was trying to protect him.  
  
Derek rolled his eyes, “The two of you are ridiculous. Let Stiles go do his thing, he’s got the same abilities as you now Scott, he’ll be fine.” He pushed away from the doorframe, “Has anyone ever told you two that you’re oddly codependent on each other. It’s almost frightening.” He said rubbing a hand over his face.  
  
Stiles shot Derek a glare. “Maybe you’re just jealous,” he shot back.  
  
Derek arched an eyebrow, “Jealous of what exactly?”  
  
Scott dropped his head. “This isn’t going to end well,” he mumbled with a sigh.  
  
“Oh, I don’t know. That we’re not bitter like you and can actually depend on one another when shit happens?” He folded his arms across his chest.  
  
Derek pursed his lips, his gaze darkening. “Just be happy you don’t have anything to be bitter about,” he snapped before glancing at Scott. “Thanks for letting me crash. I’m going to head out.” He glanced back at Stiles, “Do whatever you want with the Argents, but don’t let Peter find out because he’ll kill you without even blinking.” He said before turning on his heel and heading for the door.  
  
Stiles’ jaw tightened. No, he certainly had _nothing_ to be bitter about. His fingers curled into fists, anger seeping into his veins as he watched Derek go. Jackass.  
  
Scott glanced between Stiles and the front door that had just shut rather loudly. He winced and looked back at Stiles. “You okay dude?”  
  
“He gets on every single nerve, I swear to god,” he mumbled.  
  
Scott looked over at the door again even though Derek was long gone. “Maybe that’s his werewolf superpower,” he joked trying to make his friend smile.  
  
Stiles exhaled slowly, giving Scott a tiny smile that didn’t reach his eyes, because hey the guy was trying and it wasn’t his fault that Derek was a jerk. “Apparently. Years and years of honing that superpower have obviously paid off.”  
  
Scott returned the smile with a tired one of his own. “When are you planning on contacting Mr. Argent?” He asked quietly, “Only five more days until the full moon.”  
  
“In the morning as soon as I wake up.” He rubbed a hand over his face, suddenly realizing he was tired, too.  
  
Scott nodded, “Then we should probably get some rest,” he commented, “My mom will be home soon. Why don’t we head up to bed and then I’ll cover for you at school tomorrow while you go talk to Mr. Argent.”  
  
“Yeah. All right. Your mom won’t mind me crashing again?” He scratched the back of his neck, thinking back to Derek’s comment about how they were oddly codependent on each other.  
  
“Dude, no. Why would she?” He stood and shook his head, “You’ve got your own set of keys and she hasn’t taken them away,” he joked, “We’re good. Come on I’ll feel better with you here anyway.” He said nodding towards the stairs.  
  
“But because there are werewolf hunters out there and not because you think I’m gonna like, snap and run through the woods naked eating rabbits, right?” He smirked, patting Scott on the back as they headed for the stairs.  
  
Scott shrugged, “Maybe a little of both,” he said with a shrug before smirking in his best friend’s direction slapping him lightly on the back.  
  
Stiles smirked, “I guess this means I need to buy myself a little werewolf oven.”  
  
Scott snorted, “Werewolves don’t use ovens, remember?” He shook his head and chuckled lightly glad that his friend hadn’t lost his sense of humor. They were definitely going to need it.


	5. Chapter 5

Stiles was more than a little bit terrified that morning as he parked his jeep in front of the Argents’ house. He was literally walking right into the lion’s den of werewolf hunters...and he was a damn werewolf. He reminded himself that this was to keep Scott safe and he steeled his nerves at the thought. He turned off the jeep’s engine and slid out of the seat, shutting the door behind him after he locked it. Not that anyone would steal his vehicle in _this_ neighborhood. These people had money -- a lot of it.   
  
And his jeep, beloved as it was, wasn’t exactly what any of them would be excited to drive, he was pretty sure.   
  
He made his way to the front door, ringing the bell and squaring his shoulders as he waited.   
  
Chris stood in front of the fireplace a glass of scotch in his hand as he stared at the charred wood. Allison had already left for school and Victoria was on the phone with Gerard in the other room. Kate was dead. The alpha had gotten to her last night and he and his team of hunters hadn’t made it out into the woods in time. Chris wound up bringing her body back in pieces.   
  
He couldn’t believe she was gone. They still hadn’t told Allison yet, he wasn’t sure how to. The sound of the bell chiming pulled him from his thoughts. Chris sighed emptied the glass and then put it down as he made his way to the door. He unlocked it and pulled it open pausing when he saw Stiles Stilinski standing outside his door. Chris’ face darkened, “What do you want?”   
  
Stiles knew right away that something was off with the older man. He knew what grief looked like, eyes just a bit red-rimmed, stench of alcohol on someone’s breath, paler skin than normal. He’d seen this look on his dad a thousand times over the years, particularly the first couple of years after Stiles’ mom had died. And Stiles wasn’t sure what to make of it now, on Chris’s face, because it was so obvious that was what was happening. Someone had died.   
  
“What’s going on?” he asked, because his business or not, he was _Stiles_ and he wanted to know.   
  
Chris’ eyes turned to slits, his fists clenching at his sides. “Where do you get off coming to my home demanding answers from me?” He asked not giving the teenager a chance to answer, “Go home Stiles and don’t come back,” he said starting to close the door.   
  
His hand shot out and caught the door. “I’m sorry.” And he was. Sort of. Sorry in the way that whatever was going on was clearly going to affect and hurt Allison unless -- oh god. What if _Allison_ was the one who was hurt, or worse? “Is it Allison? Is she okay?” There was definitely a hint of anxiety in his voice. It wasn’t that he and the brunette were really friends, but Scott loved her, and Lydia needed her, and he loved Scott and Lydia.   
  
Chris paused momentarily at the anxiety on Stiles’ face. “Allison is on her way to school,” he said simply as he studied the teenager in front of him. “Not that it’s any of _your_ business. But it’s Kate.” He told the boy, anger in his eyes. “The alpha got her last night.” He knew Scott and Derek had to know who the alpha was, but he couldn’t find either of them. Then again if they knew, Stiles probably knew as well. Chris’ gaze turned calculating as he watched Stiles.   
  
“I’m sorry,” he told Chris quietly, even if he wasn’t, really. Because Kate Argent had kidnapped and tortured Derek, and slaughtered his entire family in a fire, and it would’ve only been a matter of time before she focused her attention on _Scott_. And at the end of the day, Stiles knew her death was for the best because it meant she couldn’t hurt anyone else. So at least one problem was taken care of. But he also didn’t miss the calculating, intense gaze that the older Argent had focused on him now, and he knew instinctively exactly what he was thinking about.   
  
Chris shifted on his feet. “You know who it is don’t you?” He asked taking a step outside and invading Stiles’ personal space. “I want to know.”   
  
Normally Stiles had very little problem with people invading his personal space. Actually, he was usually the one invading other people’s personal space, even if he never meant for it to be intimidating, and there was a definite difference. Chris _meant_ to be intimidating. He wanted Stiles to be intimidated. And as much as he hated it, he _was_ still intimidated. “And I want Scott safe. We can help each other.”   
  
Chris snorted, “What would make you think Scott isn’t safe? Has he killed someone recently?” He asked eyebrow arched.   
  
“Scott couldn’t even stand the thought that he might accidentally have killed a _rabbit_ ,” Stiles responded with a roll of his eyes. “So no. And he won’t. I’ve known him literally my entire life. He’s not a killer.”   
  
Chris pursed his lips, “Well he hasn’t been a werewolf your entire life. People change...things change them.” He commented stepping back, arms folding over his chest. “We have a code. And I follow it. If Scott hasn’t killed anyone then we don’t need to kill him,” the yet was practically implied because if he did kill someone Chris would barely hesitate.   
  
He almost snorted at the irony of Chris’s words. Yeah, things changed people all right. Things like bites from a crazy alpha werewolf. But he also listened to the man’s heartbeat and it didn’t stutter over his words. Either he was a really good liar, or he was telling the truth. No doubt that Chris Argent was a dangerous man, but maybe he wasn’t really an enemy either. So he nodded slightly, studying him. “The alpha is Peter Hale,” he informed him, arching his eyebrows. “And he’s the one who bit Scott in the first place.” His jaw tightened.   
  
Chris frowned briefly, “That’s not possible, Peter Hale hasn’t been able to shift since the fire ten years ago.” He paused and suddenly everything came together. It made sense now, the victims he’d gone after. They had all been friends with Kate, they were all people she would have taken with her had she burned the Hale House to the ground, which is was looking more and more like she had done. His chest tightened. “Do any of you know where he is?” Chris asked glancing up at Stiles.   
  
“No,” he said, honestly regretting that he didn’t. “He’s not exactly a typical...pack-oriented werewolf as far as I know. He’s stalked Scott off and on, but he hasn’t expressed much interest in him aside from that.” He rubbed the back of his neck. “They don’t talk.”   
  
“Scott talks to Derek,” Chris pointed out, “Where is Derek? We haven’t been able to find him. Peter is his blood, he’ll know how to find him.” He told Stiles.   
  
“I don’t know,” he admitted. “But I’m not sure how much blood matters to Peter either, considering he murdered his own niece.” He let that sit for a moment. “I’ll talk to Derek, see if he knows anything about where Peter’s staying.” He pulled his cell phone out and sent Chris a text message. “You have my number now.”   
  
Chris watched Stiles for a minute. There was something different about him that he couldn’t quite place. “Since when are you on such friendly terms with Derek?” He stared down at him, “Something’s going on here and you realize eventually I’m going to figure out what it is?” Not right now, he added silently because his priority was finding the Peter Hale and killing him. But soon.   
  
Stiles snorted at that. “Trust me when I say I’m not on friendly terms with Derek,” he said wryly. “But you’re seriously mistaken if you think there’s anything I won’t do to keep _Scott_ safe. Peter’s a threat to everyone in this town, especially to Scott. That’s why I’m here. There’s really nothing else to this situation except my supreme desire to keep my best friend alive.” He slid his phone back into his jeans pocket.   
  
Chris crossed his arms over his chest. “Whatever you say,” he said simply. “If you talk to Derek tell him if he helps us get Peter, we’ll leave him be. For now.” He told Stiles, voice hard.   
  
Somehow he doubted that Derek would feel any real comfort over that promise, all things considered, and for once, he couldn’t actually blame the guy in the least. That was annoying. “As soon as I know anything about Peter, I’ll be in touch,” Stiles informed him before turning to head back to his jeep.   


_______

  
  
Allison stood motionless at her locker, just staring in at the contents. She hadn’t seen her aunt since the night she’d set Derek Hale free, and as far as she knew, her parents hadn’t either. And despite their initial insistence than she leave Beacon Hills, she’d rather firmly informed them that if they tried to force her, she’d just come back one way or another. Apparently they believed her.   
  
She still had a lot of unanswered questions, a lot of things she didn’t understand, but she was determined to find all the answers she wanted. She finally pulled her history book from the top shelf and then shut her locker door, turning to find herself face to face with Scott. Despite her uncertainty about everything else, she couldn’t help but smile at him.   
  
Scott returned the smile before shifting forward and pulling Allison gently into his arms. “God, I’ve missed you,” he whispered leaning into her as he cupped the back of her neck. Scott felt like it had been weeks instead of days since the last time he’d seen her. One of the only reasons he’d actually come to school that morning was in hopes that she’d be there.   
  
She hugged him back tightly, closing her eyes and burying her face against his neck. “Me too,” she whispered back. “My parents confiscated my phone.”   
  
“I don’t really love your parents,” Scott joked as he ran a hand down her back and then back up to her hair. “How are you?” He asked not pulling back yet? “What’s been going on? Are you staying?” Scott knew he was firing a lot of questions at her at once, but he needed to make sure she was staying and that things were okay, or as okay as they could be.   
  
Allison smiled very faintly. She wasn’t very happy with her parents at the moment either, and she didn’t see that changing anytime soon. “Yeah, I’m staying. They’re not very happy about it, but I told them I’d just find my own way back one way or another.” She pulled back to look at him, eyes worried. “They know Lydia’s not a werewolf, but I think they’re still trying to figure out what that means. How are _you_? How’s Stiles?” Her voice dropped.   
  
Scott debated whether or not to tell Allison where Stiles was, but figured she’d find out eventually, plus they promised no more secrets. “He’s doing okay.” Scott hesitated, “He’s actually talking with your dad right now or he should be.” He admitted. “He’s trying to make sure your parents don’t plan on killing me and Derek any time soon...well mostly me.” Scott told her with half a smile.   
  
Her eyes widened a little at that. “Stiles went to talk to my _dad?_ Alone?” Because even she was uneasy at the thought of any of them being alone with her parents now that she knew what they did. What they were capable of doing.   
  
Scott nodded. “I didn’t want him to, but your parents still don’t know about him, so it was our safest option for the moment,” he responded with a frown. “Hopefully he’ll be here soon.”   
  
She hoped so too, and she nodded, eyes troubled. “I have to tell you about something else,” she whispered. “Something that Kate did.” She looked down.   
  
Scott’s brows furrowed and he reached out cupping her cheek, lifting her head so she was looking at him. Concern colored his features, “What is it?” He asked softly.   
  
Allison drew in a breath and looked up at him again. “She had Derek Hale hostage in the basement of his own house,” she told him quietly. “She was...torturing him.”   
  
Some of the tension fell from his body and he relaxed slightly, cupping both of her cheeks. “I know,” he said softly. “Derek came by my house, he was in pretty bad shape and he didn’t have anywhere else to go and heal,” Scott hesitated, “It isn’t the first time she’s gone after him, the first night she came to town she shot him, the bullet almost killed him...there’s been other times, but it’s not important right now,” he paused, “Thank you for helping him,” he whispered. Scott and Derek might not be close, but he was pretty sure that if he’d been through everything Derek had been through he wouldn’t be the most personable werewolf either.   
  
She leaned in and kissed him softly on the mouth before nodding. She wasn’t surprised to hear that it wasn’t the first time her aunt had gone after Derek. Not after what she’d watched Kate do a few nights ago. “It could’ve been you.”   
  
Scott swallowed hard as he held Allison’s gaze, “It still might be,” he said quietly. “I need to tread carefully until we talk to Stiles.” He said brushing his thumb over her cheek.   
  
“I won’t let that happen,” Allison said firmly, searching his eyes.   
  
Scott was silent for a minute. “Listen,” he glanced down briefly, “I love you. But I need you to know I’d never ask you to choose me over your family.” His thumb brushed against her cheek again, “You’re nothing like Kate,” he added, “But I don’t want you to put yourself between me and you family. I want you safe.” he said quietly resting his forehead against hers. “I’ll be okay. But if anything happens to you...I couldn’t stand it.” Scott told her softly.   
  
“I don’t think they’d hurt me, Scott,” she said honestly. “Not even Kate.” She sighed softly. “And we’ll figure it out. Somehow.” She offered him a tiny, worried smile.   
  
Scott nodded, “I know we will.” He let out a breath and dropped his hands from her face. He smiled tiredly and held out his hand to her. “Why don’t I walk you to first period?” He offered.   
  
Allison slid her hand into his. “I’d like that.”   
  
Scott smiled, threaded their fingers together and then brought her hand to his lips pressing a kiss against her skin before guiding them down the hallway, determined to figure out a way to make things work. He loved Allison too much not to.   


______

  
  
Lydia stood beside the hospital bed in her loose light blue dress and a pair of black heels. She’d gotten a chance to shower and get dressed earlier that morning and was just waiting for the final set of discharge papers before she could finally make her way home to her empty house. While Lydia wasn’t exactly looking forward to being all by herself she was definitely looking forward to getting the hell out of the hospital.   
  
Her side was feeling a lot better despite the fact that it wasn’t fully healed yet. Everything was bandaged up tightly and as long as she didn’t overexert herself too much the pain was manageable. Lydia zipped up the small bag that her mother had dropped off for her before returning to her conference and took a deep breath.   
  
She heard a noise by the door and spotted Allison. Lydia gave her best friend her brightest smile and stretched her hands out at her side. “How do I look?” She asked knowing it had to be better than the unwashed mess she’d been a day earlier.   
  
A smile stretched across Allison’s mouth. “Beautiful, as always,” she informed her, stepping farther into the room. “The real question is, though, how do you _feel?_ ” She moved over and perched on the edge of the hospital bed, watching Lydia closely.   
  
Lydia shrugged. “Almost back to my old self.” She told her friend with a flip of her hair, “Please, if someone thought a little bite and some scratches were going to keep me down for long, they were sadly mistaken.” She’d had another nightmare last night and she was pretty sure she’d gotten a better look at the thing-person’s face. But Allison didn’t need to know that, she’d only think Lydia was losing it.   
  
“What have I missed in school? Anything I should know about?” Lydia asked with an arched eyebrow.   
  
She made a face. “Other than my steadily declining history grade? Not much,” she informed her, leaning back on her hands and smiling softly. Whether Lydia really felt that much better or not, she wasn’t sure, but the redhead was definitely acting like she felt better. Then again, Allison knew from personal experience that people could pretend very well.   
  
Lydia arched an eyebrow, “Maybe it’s time for a study date with that boyfriend of yours,” she said with a grin before tilting her head to the side, “Though that probably wouldn’t help your grade much.” She said with a shrug as she walked across the room, heels clacking lightly against the floor. Lydia walked back over to the bed and continued the cycle as she spoke. “If you need some help we can study together.” She commented. It wasn’t like there was anyone at her house to bother them.   
  
“Grade wise, I have a feeling I’ll be better off studying with you,” she said with a short laugh. “Scott and I have a tendency to get...distracted when we’re studying.” Her cheeks flushed a little.   
  
Lydia smirked, “That’s the way it _should_ be Allison.” She pursed her lips, “You can invite him to study with us if you want. It’s not like his grade couldn’t use a boost too.” She’d heard coach yelling at Scott more than once about his grades.   
  
“Yeah?” Allison smiled at her, liking the idea of spending more time with her best friend and the guy she was in love with -- at the same time. She wanted them to be friends, to get to know each other. She wanted them to like one another. “That’d be great. And you’re right, Scott could use the extra study time, too.”   
  
Lydia sent her friend half a smile, “Sure, whenever you want. We can study out by the pool.” She said as she ran a hand through her hair grinning.   
  
“Who's going to study by the pool?” Scott asked as he leaned against the hospital room door glancing in at Allison and Lydia with a small smile.   
  
“We are,” Allison informed him with a soft smile of her own, her eyes lighting up when she spotted him. “You and me and Lydia.”   
  
Scott grinned, “That sounds nice,” he paused, “Uh I’m actually not alone.” He admitted sheepishly glancing over his shoulder to see where his best friend had gone.   
  
Lydia watched the way Allison’s face brightened at the sight of Scott and his did the same. Her chest tightened. She was pretty sure no one had ever looked at her like that. Lydia brushed off the momentary vulnerability and walked across the room to where the vase of orchids were. “The more the merrier, what do I care?” Lydias asked with a shrug as she lifted the vase and started to walk back over to the hospital bed.   
  
Stiles paused behind Scott, lifting his hand in a short wave at Allison as his gaze traveled to Lydia. He had a feeling she just might mind when she saw it was him. Then again, it wasn’t like Scott hung out with a wide variety of people. Maybe she figured it would be him. He glanced over his shoulder, tensing as he heard footsteps approaching and then relaxing once more when he saw it was just a nurse approaching the room across from Lydia’s. Not some hunter after Scott.   
  
Not Peter Hale.   
  
Lydia let out a short huff, “What is taking the doctor so long? I want to get out of this sterile prison already.” She turned pausing when she spotted Stiles as Scott moved into the room closing the distance between him and Allison.   
  
Lydia could see Scott kiss Allison’s cheek out of the corner of her eye, but her gaze never left Stiles. She swallowed hard, her heartbeat picking up speed slightly. She hadn’t seen him since the night he stopped by her hospital room to drop off the flowers she was currently holding. Lydia arched an eyebrow at him, “Well are you just going to stand there or are you going to make yourself useful?” She asked.   
  
Stiles arched his eyebrows, too, surprised. “Uh, right.” He moved over to where she stood, reaching out and taking the vase of flowers from her. “Anything else?” he asked, glancing around to see if she had other stuff she needed carried.   
  
A thoughtful expression crossed Lydia’s face before she pointed to the bag on the bed. “That, please.”   
  
Scott had to bite the inside of his cheek to keep from laughing as he glanced at Allison, humor in his gaze at the way his friend awkwardly followed Lydia’s commands.   
  
Stiles shot him a look, narrowing his eyes at him as he picked up the bag off the hospital bed, draping the bag over his shoulder. Like Scott wouldn’t be doing the same thing for _Allison._   
  
Scott sent his friend an innocent look. In truth he was only playing. He knew how much Stiles loved Lydia. “Are we going to your house now?” Scott asked as he rested his hand at the small of Allison’s back, wondering briefly if Allison was even allowed to go anywhere.   
  
Lydia arched an eyebrow and glanced at Allison, “It’s fine with me.” She said not sure if Allison had planned on coming back with her now or if she was heading home alone.   
  
“I’m good with whatever,” Allison told them, arching her eyebrows. “Are you sure you don’t want to just go home and rest for awhile, Lydia?”   
  
“Of course not, I’ve rested enough in this stupid hospital. I’ve got a lot to catch up on,” she said simply with a wave of her hand. But the truth was she was scared. There was a small part of her that didn’t want to be all alone in her big house. Maybe it was because of the man with the red eyes or because for the past day or two she’d been feeling a little off. Lydia didn’t know. But what she did know was that she didn’t want to be alone.   
  
Stiles pursed his lips at her answer, hearing the faint jump of her heart. He didn’t think she’d uttered a lie. She looked rested enough. Didn’t seem to be in as much pain as she’d been in. But something was off with her. He just couldn’t quite put his finger on what it was.   
  
Lydia felt eyes on her and she turned catching Stiles’ gaze. “What? Why are you staring? Is there something on my dress?” She asked reaching behind herself and sliding a hand down her body, trying to glance over her own shoulder with a frown.   
  
“No. No, sorry,” he said, shaking his head and grimacing a little. “I didn’t mean to stare.”   
  
Lydia paused, “Oh...it’s fine.” She stood there silently for a minute before glancing at Allison. “Who needs discharge papers,” She commented, “Can we just get out of here?” She asked a sudden ball of anxiety building in her chest, though she wasn’t quite sure why.   
  
Allison laid a hand on her shoulder. “I’ll go see if I can find out what the hold up is,” she assured her, heading for the door.   
  
“Wait up,” Scott said as he jogged after her leaving Lydia alone with Stiles.   
  
Lydia watched them go and she shifted on her feet glancing at Stiles. “You should probably put that down, it seems like it’s going to be a little while before they let me out of here.” She said with a slight sigh as she rested on the edge of the bed.   
  
“Yeah, probably,” he agreed, setting the flowers down on the table by the bed and then looking over at her for a moment. “They’re never in a big hurry around hospitals. You’re just kinda stuck on their time.”   
  
Lydia pursed her lips and tilted her head, her gaze falling on Stiles. “I didn’t expect Scott, or you.” She commented, “Did Allison call?”   
  
“Allison mentioned to Scott at school earlier that you were getting out of here tonight,” he explained, fingers curling around the handle of the bag he was still carrying.   
  
Lydia arched an eyebrow and crossed her legs flinching mildly. “So the two of you decided to stop by? Why?” She asked, curious.   
  
Her flinch didn’t go unnoticed. He hesitated a moment then moved to sit down beside her. “Well, we weren’t sure how much stuff you had and thought maybe we could help get all of it back to your place.”   
  
Lydia frowned, “But _why_?” She asked, “I mean we’re not even friends.” Her words weren’t mean or even rude, just truthful and confused. Lydia couldn’t think of one reason why Scott or Stiles would want to help her. Well, outside of Allison, but that didn’t explain why Stiles was helping.   
  
“Maybe we could be,” he said quietly, looking down at the floor. It was, of course, unrealistic. They ran in different social circles. Lydia _had_ a social circle. Stiles had Scott. And it was dangerous, now more than ever. Trying to be friends with her under the circumstances was dangerous for her considering what he was. Scott was one thing. Scott was steady. Scott was trustworthy. He could control himself. Stiles wasn’t sure that he was going to be able to.   
  
Lydia should have laughed at the notion of being friends with Stiles Stilinski of all people. They didn’t run in the same circles, hell they didn’t run in the same orbit, but something stopped her and honestly Lydia wasn’t quite sure what it was. Stiles wasn’t anything like most people thought he was. Like _she_ thought he was. Lydia glanced at him staring at the floor and she cleared her throat trying to draw his attention to her. “Did you mean what you said at the dance?” She asked her tone softer than it had been in a long time.   
  
He glanced at her sideways. He wasn’t sure which part she was asking about specifically, but he knew he hadn’t said anything to her that night that he hadn’t meant. “Yeah. I rarely ever say something I don’t mean. I have like, no brain to mouth filter generally speaking.”   
  
Lydia’s lip twitched at his comment. “You and I have that in common.” She responded tapping her finger against her thigh. “I’m not you know,” Lydia glanced at Stiles again, “A cold hearted bitch.” Her words were quiet. “Most people just don’t deserve to know that.”   
  
Stiles watched her, listening intently to her tone, to the softness of her voice. “I know you aren’t,” he said just as quietly. He’d always known that. He paid attention better than most people.   
  
Lydia nodded. “You’ll have to work your way up to friend,” she said finally, “Right now, you’re just Stiles.” Not that, that was a bad thing. Besides keeping him close might help her figure out what he was hiding from her.   
  
This time, it was his lips that twitched upwards just a little. _Just Stiles_ was an improvement from a few months ago when he was _what the hell is a Stiles?_ He’d take it.   
  
Scott poked his head into the room a minute later, “We’re good to go. Allison has the papers. i’m going to walk with her to get the car. Meet us outside?” He asked glancing between Lydia and Stiles.   
  
“We’ll meet you,” Stiles agreed, glancing at his best friend, tensing just a little at the thought of Scott outside unguarded. Granted, Allison was there, but she might not be as on guard about things.   
  
Lydia noticed Stiles tense beside her as she stood. “Problem?” She asked eyebrow arching.   
  
“No,” he said, rising to his feet as well, and moving over to pick up the vase of orchids. He glanced at her for a moment before holding his elbow out wordlessly.   
  
Lydia stared at it for a minute before glancing up and meeting his gaze. She reached out seconds later and curled her hand around his arm. “Be careful with the flowers,” Lydia told him her tone light, “I don’t want them to get squashed.”   
  
Stiles grinned at her, nodding. “Understood,” he said solemnly, winking at her and leading her toward the door.   


______

  
  
Chris stood outside Allison’s bedroom, his head down. It had been a day and a half since Kate was murdered and he knew he needed to tell his daughter. He’d planned to do it last night, but she’d helped Lydia home from the hospital and stayed with the other girl for a while. Something he was weary about, but knew he couldn’t stop her from doing it. Chris knew how to pick and choose his battles.   
  
Lydia was an enigma, one the hunters would be watching her from now on. No one had ever been immune before and if that’s what she was, she could be useful to them. Chris shook the thought away and took a deep breath before knocking on Allison’s door.   
  
Allison appeared at the door a moment later, looking at her dad warily. “Yeah?” She wrapped her arms around herself.   
  
Chris ran a hand over the back of his neck. “I need to talk to you...it’s about your aunt.” He told her quietly, “Can I come in?”   
  
She pursed her lips. “I can explain, Dad,” she said, even as she stepped aside reluctantly to let him in. She chewed her fingernail nervously. “I don’t think that torturing someone falls under the category of hunting those who hunt us.”   
  
Chris frowned as he walked into his daughter’s bedroom. “What are you talking about?” He asked pursing his lips as he studied his daughter’s face and movements noticing the nervousness she exhibited.   
  
“Derek Hale,” she admitted after a moment, averting her eyes.   
  
Chris paused, “What about him?” He was obviously missing something, but then her words registered and he frowned again. “Are you telling me your aunt was torturing Derek Hale?” He asked quietly, though there was an underlying hint of anger in his voice.   
  
“Isn’t that what you wanted to talk about?” she asked in confusion. “I mean, I know she’s probably really pissed off that I let him go when she left.”   
  
Chris ran a hand down his face before composing himself. “No, Allison. I didn’t know she did that, but,” he hesitated, “It was probably a good thing you let him go.” He’d been slightly unfair to the last remaining Hale since he got home, well not last, but he would be as soon as they found and killed Peter. “It’s Kate, she was killed the other night.”   
  
Allison stared at him unblinking. “What?” she whispered. “What are you talking about?” A cold chill ran down her spine and she stepped back from him unconsciously, out of reach.   
  
Chris took a step closer to her resting a hand on her shoulder, “The alpha got her,” he said his voice hard, “But we know who it is now and we’re going to go after him and make sure he doesn’t hurt anyone else ever again.” Chris told her firmly.   
  
“Because of what she did to Derek?” She shook her head, pulling away from him again, because she didn’t want to be physically close to anyone right now. Not until she figured this out. “No, that doesn’t -- that doesn’t make any sense. No, there was something else. Derek was fine. Or he is by now.”   
  
Chris’ frown was back. “No, Peter Hale was going after the people who killed his family,” he hadn’t him long to figure out the connection, “The people he targeted,” he hesitated, “They all had something to do with the Hale fire ten years ago.” He told her gruffly keeping the fact that his sister was the ring leader to himself.   
  
Chris met Allison’s gaze. “What do you mean Derek is fine now? Have you been talking to Derek Hale?” he asked disapproval in his tone.   
  
“That doesn’t make any sense unless Aunt Kate --” Allison grew still and she stared at her dad. “Did she really have something to do with the fire?” she whispered. “Is that why he killed her? Did _you_ or Mom have something to do with it, too?” Her heart began to pound heavily in her chest. How crazy _was_ her family?   
  
Chris hesitated a scowl forming on his face. “Your mother and I had nothing to do with the fire. But it seems your aunt did. We didn’t know, we would never,” he paused his voice faltering. “Not all the Hale children were werewolves.” He said looking away from Allison. “And the young ones certainly weren’t killers, neither was Talia.”   
  
Allison rubbed her hands over her face and moved to sit down on her bed, skin paler than usual. “She’s really dead?” she whispered.   
  
Chris nodded, not giving his daughter the gory details. “Yes,” he said quietly. “I need you to make sure you don’t go out after dark and it’s straight home after school.” He said pointedly.   
  
Allison fell silent, clearly in shock from the news as it began to sink in.   
  
Chris hesitated, “Are you alright?” He asked, “I know this is hard, but being a part of this family, doing what we do. It’s hard. We need to make hard choices and this...this is one of them.” He told her his voice low. “When we come up with a story, you’ll have to go along with it, to keep the police at bay.”   
  
She wondered if it really mattered to him if she was all right. It wasn’t like she’d asked to be born into a family of werewolf hunters. It wasn’t that she didn’t love her parents, but she was seventeen. And she wasn’t sure that she wanted any part of what they did. In fact, she was fairly certain she didn’t. “I’m fine. I’d like to be alone now, please.” She didn’t look up at him.   
  
Chris sighed, “Allison, we’re here if you need to talk or if you have questions...I-we’re here.” He said finally.   
  
She closed her eyes. “I know.” Her voice was strained and she really, really didn’t want to cry in front of her dad. She didn’t like crying in front of _anyone_.   
  
Chris’ chest tightened at the tone of her voice and he nodded even though she wasn’t looking at him. “Okay,” he said softly before opening her door and stepping outside closing it behind him and wishing there was something he could do to help make things easier on his daughter, but knowing there was nothing. This was just how their lives were.   


______

  
  
Stiles was starving, but the cafeteria food wasn’t exactly mouth-watering to smell. He’d never really noticed how bad it smelled before. He scowled, bypassing the lunch line and making his way into cafeteria. He glanced around but didn’t see Scott anywhere yet. He was probably running late. Sighing in annoyance because he was hoping his best friend would be on time so maybe they could skip whatever crap was being served and go somewhere with something edible. And for that matter maybe skip the rest of the day, too.   
  
His skin felt hotter than usual and he felt agitated. Consciously he knew it was because it was the day of the full moon. But it didn’t make him feel any less on edge.   
  
His eyes scanned the room and a smile pulled at his lips as he spotted Lydia sitting alone at a table, reading a book. Once upon a time, he never would have had the nerve to approach her in such a public setting. But things were different now. He strode over to her table and sat down directly across from her, arching his eyebrows as he looked at the cover of her...Harlequin Romance Book. “Really?”   
  
Lydia had seen Stiles approaching out of the corner of her eye, but she kept her gaze on her book, despite the light twitch at the corner of her mouth at his comment. She’d spent several hours with Stiles, Scott and Allison the day she got home from the hospital and then again the day after and it seemed like that had upped their acquaintance status to possibly friends. “Do you have a problem with romance novels?” She asked while turning the page.   
  
“Just not what I expected Lydia Martin to be reading,” he told her honestly, leaning his arms on the table, faint smirk on his mouth. “I was more expecting something like _The History of Biochemistry._ ”   
  
Lydia grinned, “Already read it. I’ll be moving onto Thermodynamic: Asymmetry in Time as soon as I finish my girly novel,” she mocked jokingly. “There needs to be a break in between learning books or the information isn’t retained as easily,” she explained still not looking away from her book.   
  
His lips quirked into a smile as he gazed at her. “What’s a guy gotta do to get some actual face time with the prettiest girl in Beacon Hills, anyway?”   
  
Lydia felt something odd happen inside of her at his compliment. Her heartbeat quickened slightly as her thumb brushed against the page of the book. “Flattery will get you nowhere,” she responded, though her lashes fluttered slightly as her gaze found his. “What can I do for you?” Lydia inquired, her perfectly sculpted eyebrow arching as she crossed her legs and leaned back in her seat.   
  
Stiles couldn’t help but feel satisfied with himself as he heard her heart skip a beat at his words. Maybe this werewolf thing wasn’t really completely terrible after all. “Well, since you’re a woman of good taste, I thought maybe you might want to ditch what laughingly passes for food here and come with me to get something to eat that isn’t terrible.” He leaned forward on his forearms.   
  
Lydia studied Stiles for a minute. There was something different about him that she couldn’t quite place. She slipped her marker back in her book and finally closed it, but didn’t put it down. Lydia rested her elbows on the table and copied Stiles’ movements. “I am a woman of good taste,” she smirked, “Which begs the question, where exactly do you plan on taking me? Because I’m a little picky about the things I put in my body.”   
  
He leaned in a little more, arching his eyebrows. “Anywhere you want to go,” he informed her, eyes twinkling with mischief. “I’ve got no problem letting you decide where we eat...or what else we do.”   
  
Lydia blinked, the mischievous gleam in his gaze clear and she wondered briefly if Stiles had always had that look and she missed it, though Lydia was pretty sure she would have remembered. She felt a rush of adrenaline fill her body, which was odd. The look in his eyes almost seemed predatory, but this was Stiles Stilinski. You couldn’t get more of a boyscout, outside of his best friend of course.   
  
And yet there was something almost exciting about his words and demeanor. Lydia ignored the rapid beating of her heart and placed her book on the table resting her hands over it. “Are you sure you want to hand over all control of the afternoon to me? What if I make you eat salad and get a pedicure?” She asked amused, not backing away from him despite the fact that he had moved closer.   
  
“I eat salad many times a week,” he informed her, not looking away. The fact that she was playing along was surprising, but also incredibly thrilling. “But I’ll pass on the pedicure. I’d sit with you while you got one if you wanted.” He winked at her. Holy crap, he was actually flirting with Lydia Martin. And not getting _instantly_ shot down.   
  
Lydia chuckled trying to remember if he’d always been this amusing, then again it wasn’t like they spoke regularly so she had no idea. But she had promised herself she’d find out what Stiles was hiding from her and what better way than spending some actual time with him. “Tell me, do you typically stroll around the lunch room flirting with unsuspecting girls?” She asked, humor filling her gaze.   
  
If he hadn’t sensed that she was amused rather than laughing at him, he probably would have been kind of crushed. “No, never,” he said honestly. “Literally, _never_. It’s a first for me. How’s it working out so far?” His voice was teasing.   
  
Lydia was silent for a minute, “For someone who claims not to do it often, you seem quite adept at it,” she responded with a smirk. “I like Japanese.” Lydia told him matter-of-factly.   
  
“If the lady wants Japanese, then the lady shall have Japanese.” He reached his hand out to help her to her feet. “How are you feeling, by the way?”   
  
Lydia glanced at Stiles hand briefly before taking it and allowing him to help her up. When she was standing she released his hand and slipped her novel into her purse. “Better than I was,” she said her tone light as she pulled her purse over her shoulder and reached for her textbooks. The bite on her side and the scratched above it were healing nicely from what she could tell, though there was definitely going to be some scarring, which made Lydia cringe.   
  
“I’m glad,” he said sincerely, automatically reaching out and scooping her books into his arms.   
  
Lydia arched an eyebrow at his actions. “I’m perfectly capable of carrying my own books,” she commented, but didn’t make a move to take them back. She brushed a hand through her hair and started for the door, heels hitting the floor loudly as they walked across the cafeteria. “No Scott today?” She asked wondering if that was why he’d sought her out.   
  
“I’m aware,” he agreed. “But I’m being chivalrous.” He grinned at her as they headed out of the cafeteria and it didn’t dawn on him until they were in the hall how hushed the place had become. Oh well. Let them wonder. It wasn’t like he’d ever cared what other people thought. At least not that much. “I don’t actually know where Scott is.” He shrugged.   
  
“Hm,” Lydia mumbled, ignoring the gazes that were being sent her their way. “I don’t know where Allison is either, which means they’re probably together locked in a closet somewhere having a lot more fun than we are.” Lydia told him with a slight smirk as she brushed a hand over her hip smoothing out the material of her dress.   
  
That caught him off guard and his eyes cut over to where her hand moved over her hip. He licked his lips involuntarily. Werewolf or not, he wasn’t quite ready to suggest to her that they _could_ be having that kind of fun if she wanted. Because he wasn’t entirely sure _that_ wouldn’t make her laugh at him instead of be amused by him. “Sounds about right to me.”   
  
“Yes well, they should let their friends know when they aren’t going to be around so we don’t worry,” Lydia told Stiles as they continued down the hallway and out of the school.   
  
“It’s very irresponsible of them,” he agreed with a tiny smile.   
  
Lydia sent Stiles a sideways glance, “Well I guess it’s not all terrible,” she admitted meeting his gaze, “It does give us some time to get to know each other a little better. Isn’t that what we said we were going to do?” She asked with an arched eyebrow.   
  
“We did,” Stiles confirmed as they approached his jeep. He loaded her books and his bookbag into the backseat before he moved around to open the passenger door for her.   
  
Lydia gripped Stiles’ arm gently using it to keep her balance as she stepped into the jeep. “You’re quite the gentlemen, what exactly is it that you want?” She asked teasingly.   
  
“Maybe I’m just being myself,” he told her, meeting her eyes as she slid into the passenger seat. His voice was a little more quiet now, his agitation from earlier virtually gone now.   
  
Lydia swallowed hard at the seriousness of his voice and the honesty in his eyes. Once again she felt her heart miss a beat in her chest as she held Stiles’ gaze. “No one is that nice for no reason,” she said quietly the teasing gone from her tone as well.   
  
Stiles searched her eyes and shook his head slightly. “Maybe you’re just hanging out with all the wrong people.”   
  
Lydia pressed her lips together and glanced away from Stiles. “Maybe I am.”   
  
He watched her for a long moment before quietly closing the door. And maybe...maybe he had a shot at helping her turn that around.


	6. Chapter 6

Scott lifted his backpack over his shoulder as he glanced around the hallway for his best friend. It was the end of the day and Stiles had missed pretty much all of his afternoon classes. Scott was worried. It was the full moon tonight and his body was definitely feeling the effects of it so he knew Stiles had to be feeling it too. The fact that he didn’t know where his friend was made him even more anxious.   
  
Scott had texted Stiles a couple of times, and after the first response he hadn’t heard anything else back. He pulled his phone out of his pocket and glanced at it as he moved with the crowd out of the school heading for the parking lot. He caught a ride with Stiles that morning and though he could run home he needed to make sure his friend was okay.   
  
Scott was just about to dial Stiles’ number when he saw the jeep pull into the parking lot, surprise crossing his face when he saw the laughing red head in the passenger seat.   
  
Moments later, Stiles climbed out of the driver’s seat and Lydia out of the passenger seat and the former watched the latter head to her own car, a bright smile on his face. He was completely and utterly calm and relaxed. He felt eyes on him, though, and he turned to meet Scott’s gaze across the parking lot, his smile turning a little dopey as he moved toward Scott. “Hey man.”   
  
Scott’s brows lifted, “That’s all I get? Hey man?” He asked shoulders tensing, “Dude, where have you been? You know what tonight is.” He said with a frown, “...Where did you go with Lydia?” He finally asked his curiosity winning out over his reprimanding.   
  
“Relax, Dude. I’m fine. I feel good,” he said honestly, glancing over to where Lydia’s car was vanishing from the parking lot. “We cut out at lunch time and had Japanese. I don’t love sushi, for the record.” He grimaced. “Then we just walked around town for awhile.”   
  
Scott stared at Stiles for a minute. He looked fine, not anxious at all and Scott momentarily wondered why his friend seemed so much more calm than he did. “Does none of that seem odd to you?” He asked, “Because I’m thinking it’s a little out of the blue...I’ve never had sushi,” he added the smile on his friends face infectious.   
  
Stiles draped his arm around Scott’s shoulders. “I keep telling you. There’s more to Lydia Martin than meets the eye. Like, a lot more. A _ton_ more. And yeah maybe kind of out of the blue but I asked if she wanted to go somewhere else for lunch and she said Japanese sounded good, so we went for Japanese.” He beamed. “But pass on the sushi. Fish should definitely be cooked.”   
  
Scott grinned, “You ate uncooked fish for Lydia Martin,” Scott paused, “You’d probably eat gravel for Lydia,” he joked slapping his best friend’s chest lightly. “We need to head back to the house and start figuring things out. Mom’s working an all nighter tonight,” Scott commented, “So we should be good.”   
  
“Shut up,” Stiles said good-naturedly. He had no reason _not_ to be in a great mood. He’d just spent an entire afternoon with Lydia, the girl he’d been in love with since the third freakin’ grade. And she seemed to enjoy herself. It was almost surreal. Almost as surreal as the idea that in a few hours he might turn into a monster and kill someone.   
  
Well, that’s a sobering idea, he thought. “All right. My dad’s working tonight too and I already told him I was spending the night at your place. You know, if he was any other dad, he’d probably be wondering if we were _dating._ ” He smirked.   
  
Scott smirked, “Well if you’re going to be spending the night you better make it worth my while,” he joked as they walked back over to the jeep, “Hey you didn’t happen to see Allison at all today before your little lunch break did you?” He asked curiously wondering why she hadn’t been in school that day.   
  
“We kinda figured you two locked yourself in a janitor’s closet or Coach’s office, actually,” Stiles informed him, opening the driver’s side door again. “Guess not. Maybe she’s sick?”   
  
Scott snorted, “I think that’s more your girlfriends’ style than mine. Not that I’d complain if it was,” he said before shaking his head. “We didn’t,” he frowned, “Maybe you’re right. When we get back to the house I’ll text her, make sure she’s alright.” Scott added.   
  
“Not my girlfriend,” Stiles reminded him.   
  
Scott rolled his eyes. “You know what I mean,” he commented before glancing at his friend sideways and grinning, “Though you never known.”   
  
“Well, after finding out werewolves are real, Lydia Martin being my girlfriend seems way more possible.” He smirked.   
  
Scott chuckled as he pulled open the passenger side door of the jeep. “Yeah, I can see how that would seem more possible now,” he teased while hoisting himself into the car relaxing slightly. “Do we still have the chains at my house?” He asked cocking his head to the side.   
  
“Dude, it’s your house. Shouldn’t you know whether you’ve got chains?” He raised his eyebrows as he started the jeep’s engine.   
  
Scott sighed as he buckled himself in, “Yeah, but you were the last one to have them in my house,” he commented not really wanting to draw attention to that awful night. “So I just thought you might remember where they went.” Scott explained.   
  
“I put the stuff in your closet, but I don’t know if it’s still there.” He shrugged.   
  
Scott glanced at Stiles as the car pulled out of the parking lot. “It should be, I haven’t touched it.” He told him before glancing back out of the window. “We’ll lock you up good tonight.” He told his friend with half a smile.   
  
“You gonna be okay being _not_ locked up?” he asked, glancing at Scott sideways. Because it was only Scott’s fourth full moon since he’d been turned.   
  
Scott nodded, “I’ll be okay. I think I’ve got a handle on how to control it now. And if not there are always the handcuffs, but it’s your first full moon. You’re going to need the chains,” he said glancing at his friend, brows drawing together. “You’re sure you’re feeling okay?”   
  
Stiles shrugged. “I was kind of agitated earlier and you never mentioned how terrible the cafeteria food smells when you have powers of super sniffing.” He gave his friend a look before focusing on the road ahead. “But yeah, I feel fine now. How are you feeling?”   
  
Scott shrugged, “Not as good as I could be. I’ve been sort of anxious and strained all day. But I think that was because I couldn’t find you or Allison,” he admitted. “I’ve got you, but I still haven’t been able to get in touch with her and that worries me.”   
  
Guilt tugged at him and he glanced at Scott sideways. “Sorry man,” he said sincerely. He hadn’t meant to worry Scott.   
  
Scott’s expression softened and he reached over and patted his friend on the back. “No worries. I’m glad you had a good afternoon. I’ve gotta tell you I wasn’t nearly as calm my first full moon,” he said with a short laugh knowing Stiles knew that. “So you’re probably one up on me.” He told him with a grin.   
  
“I’m just that awesome,” he joked. He was quiet for a moment. “No, I think it’s...I kind of knew what to expect. And what I needed to do.” He glanced at Scott sideways. “Because you know, you went through it all first with like no guidance.”   
  
Scott arched an eyebrow as he glanced at Stiles, “Well, I had you,” he said lightly, “And you’ll have me.” He told his friend matter-of-factly.   
  
“Dude, I totally BS’d my entire way through all of that,” Stiles informed him with arched eyebrows. “Just got lucky that it kind of worked.” He shrugged. “But yeah, I know.”   
  
Scott snorted, “Now you tell me, thanks a lot.” He said with a shake of his head, amused. “We just need to find out what your anchor is, that’s all.” He shifted in his seat angling towards Stiles, “And as soon as we do then you’ll be able to control things a lot better.”   
  
“Dude. That was the first thing I did.” He rolled his eyes.   
  
Scott glanced at Stiles surprised, but also curious. “What’s your anchor?”   
  
Stiles gave another slight shrug, carefully not looking at him. “You, dude.”   
  
Scott opened his mouth and then closed it, not sure what to say. “Me?” He asked quietly, “I’m your anchor?”   
  
“Pretty much always,” he said as nonchalantly as possible, biting his lower lip.   
  
Scott looked away from his friend, “Dude, I’ve never been anyone’s anchor before...it’s kind of cool.” He said with a grin patting Stiles on the arm.   
  
“It just makes sense, you know. You’re like the one steady person in my life other than my dad and let’s face it, my dad’s...pretty well on the outside of all this stuff.”   
  
Scott nodded. “Yeah, I get it,” he paused, “This is going to be okay. We’ll get through tonight and then things will go back to one day at a time tomorrow.” At least he hoped it would.   
  
Stiles nodded, too. “Yeah, I know. It’s gonna be fine.” He glanced at Scott with a small smile. “We’ve got this.”   


______

  
  
“Are you sure your basement’s gonna be secure enough to hold me?” Stiles asked uncertainly, looking at his best friend as he hefted the bag of chains onto his shoulder. “I don’t wanna end up hurting you or something. Or you know, tearing up your house. Your mom might actually kill me if I break her house.”   
  
Scott frowned, “I think so,” his tone was light even though he honestly wasn’t sure. He didn’t think Stiles would be able to get out and even if he got out of the chains he didn’t think he’d be able to get past him. He was silent for a minute. “Should I call Derek?” He asked quietly. “I don’t think you’ll be able to get past both of us.”   
  
“I still feel okay, but, maybe?” He grimaced, not really thrilled about asking Derek for help with...well. Anything. It wasn’t like they were friends just because they were all werewolves. Life didn’t work that way.   
  
Scott reached out and rested a hand on Stiles’ shoulder. “I know Derek isn’t your favorite person, but this is one area where what he knows can actually help us.” He told him quietly. “Better that than you getting out and hurting someone you know?” He asked. “Or someone I don’t know.” He didn’t want to hurt anyone. Except maybe Peter Hale. Then again, Peter Hale pretty much deserved whatever he got.   
  
Scott nodded. “I’ll call him now, why don’t you bring those,” he motioned to the chains, “down in the basement and then meet me in the kitchen?”   
  
“Yep. All over it,” he informed Scott as he headed for the basement door.   
  
It didn’t take long for Scott to call Derek. Luckily for him he was around, not that he really did much to Scott’s knowledge anyway, but he told him he’d been over soon. Scott stood in the kitchen glancing around, his gaze drifting to the window where he could see the sun starting to set. He frowned as he felt something dark stir inside of him. His body tensed and he pursed his lips and closed his eyes focusing his thoughts on Allison. He took a few deep breaths and let them out slowly. When he opened his eyes he saw Stiles standing near the basement door and he sent his friend half a smile. “All set?”   
  
“Yeah. Chains are all hooked up and ready to go, sans one Stiles. You talk to Derek?” he asked, even though he knew he had, because well. Werewolf hearing. He was certain Derek was _thrilled_ to be coming over to help lock him up and keep him contained. “Okay, so like, do me a favor and don’t let him stuff a gag in my mouth because I just freakin’ know that he wants to.”   
  
Scott cocked his head to the side and chuckled. “I don’t think Derek wants to stuff a gag in your mouth, though I’m sure he’ll get a kick out of chaining you up,” he joked. “It’s going to be fine dude, he’ll be here soon and we’ll work everything out.” Scott’s voice was calm as he addressed his best friend. He didn’t want Stiles to freak out knowing that would only make things worse. “How are you feeling?”   
  
He rolled his eyes. “I think you severely underestimate the underlying animosity that is my relationship with Derek Hale.” He sighed, folding his arms across his chest. “My skin feels warmer than usual. I know werewolves run hotter than humans, but it’s worse now. Is this why you’re shirtless like all the time? Is that a werewolf thing?” Because Stiles wasn’t a big fan of taking his clothes off, especially if anyone else was around. He tended to layer himself -- undershirt, t-shirt, flannel-shirt. Like his own personal shield from clothes.   
  
Scott snorted, “Real cute.” He said with a shake of his head. “If you keep it up I’m going to let him gag you,” he joked before turning serious. “Your body temperature rises because of the change in your body I think. It’s like accommodating the wolf part?” His tone wasn’t so sure because the truth was Scott hadn’t actually taken the time to listen to anything Derek had tried to tell him. But in his defense Derek wasn’t the nicest of werewolves.   
  
“Maybe it’s like because you don’t grow an actual fur coat. Although...I still wonder how Derek’s sister was able to. And why Peter turns into a giant monster wolf thing. Although wait, no. Maybe it’s because the wolf reflects who you are as a person, so of course Peter turns into the freakin’ Godzilla of werewolves.”   
  
Scott can’t help but grin at his friend’s words. “I have no clue, but we can ask Derek when he gets here. I found it kind of weird too. I mean Derek doesn’t turn into an actual wolf like his sister did. And Peter is just creepy.” Scott said with a shake of his head. “But I think cause we were bit that we don’t need to worry about that,” at least that’s what Scott was hoping.   
  
“I hope you’re right. But that doesn’t account for Derek, right? I mean, he was born a wolf but he doesn’t turn into an actual wolf and he doesn’t turn into that overgrown furball with fangs like his uncle.” He shrugged.   
  
Scott laughed, “I’m so glad he didn’t hear you say that,” the doorbell rang seconds later and Scott pursed his lips. “Or maybe he did,” he snickered and walked out of the kitchen and down the hallway to the front door. He pulled it open and spotted Derek on the front porch glowering.   
  
“We were just-”   
  
“Calling me an overgrown furball with fangs?” He asked arching an eyebrow.   
  
“Actually calling your uncle Peter that,” Stiles corrected. “I was saying you weren’t, and that you also didn’t turn into an actual wolf. Unless there’s something you haven’t been sharing with the rest of the lycanthropy class.”   
  
Derek sighed as Scott stepped aside so he could move into the house. “All wolves are different, even ones within the same family. I don’t have the ability to change beyond what I already do. Peter,” he paused, “He wasn’t always like this.” He said glancing between Scott and Stiles as he shrugged off his leather jacket not wanting it to get ruined.   
  
“It’s unlikely that either of you will ever be able to shift into full animal form.” Derek cleared his throat. “So where are we doing this?”   
  
“So he went super-villain and now turns into a monster that could literally have come from someone’s nightmares?” Stiles asked curiously, considering that. “So in theory that could actually happen to any of us. I mean if we went evil. Or is it just a born wolf thing and not a bitten wolf thing? Not that I’m planning on going evil. I have no desire to go evil.”   
  
Derek grunted. “This isn’t going to work if you’re going to ask thirty questions a minute.” He paused and glanced sideways at Scott. “We could always knock him out and tie him up. Just think he’ll never remember a thing.” Derek said simply.   
  
Stiles scowled at him. “I’ve changed my mind. We don’t need his help,” he informed Scott.   
  
Derek smirked, “Relax. I’m not going to knock you out...unless of course you want me to then I’d be happy to.” He told him before once again glancing between the two teenagers.   
  
Scott sighed, “Let’s get along guys okay? We’ve got a real issue here and maybe if we can all work together we’ll get through this in one piece.” He said as he scratched the back of his neck, “But uh, can that really happen? Us turning evil and getting all like Peter?”   
  
Derek shook his head, “Neither of you are going to be like Peter,” he said exasperated.   
  
Stiles rolled his eyes at Derek’s remark about knocking him out and then gave Scott a look. “Dude, you are literally the last person any of us ever has to worry about turning evil,” he informed him matter-of-factly.   
  
Scott frowned, “I could be evil,” he said mildly offended though he wasn’t sure why.   
  
Derek snorted, “Yes, and unicorns are real.”   
  
That got a snort of laughter out of Stiles. “Dude. You’re as far from evil as it gets, Scott.”   
  
Scott’s brows drew together, “Now I don’t like this. No ganging up on me. And you never know I could have this whole dark side no one knows anything about,” he pointed out.   
  
Derek arched an eyebrow, “Are you seriously arguing over whether or not you can be evil? Does this have a purpose? Because the sun is going to set soon and your friend is going to be dealing with some pretty intense blood lust. I thought that was the reason for tonight’s little excursion.”   
  
Stiles smirked. “I’ve known you since we were freakin’ four. Pretty sure if you had a dark side, I’d have seen it by now. And no, that time you threatened Jackson with bodily harm so he’d take Allison to the winter formal definitely doesn’t count, and also.” He shot a look at Derek. “ _Hey._ I don’t have a thirst for blood, thank you very much, even the word blood kind of makes me want to gag.”   
  
Scott grinned and Derek rolled his eyes.   
  
“You don’t have blood lust _now_. Give it a little time. It will come. Even Saint Scott had it,” he added glancing over at Scott.   
  
Scott pursed his lips and nodded as he rubbed the back of his neck. “I hate to say it, but he’s right.”   
  
“Yes, I do distinctly remember you attempting to kill me like half a dozen times before I taught you how to get that under control.” He smirked. “All right, so let’s chain me up. And try not to enjoy yourself too much,” he told Derek, giving him a look.   
  
Scott made a face and Derek’s lip twitched.   
  
Scott motioned to the basement, “It’s going to be fine,” he reassured his friend while starting to walk towards the basement. He was just about to pull open the door when the bell rang again. Scott paused a frown pulling at his lips. “I’m not expecting anyone else.” He said quietly.   
  
Stiles frowned, too, cocking his head to the side and looking toward the front door. “Maybe it’s Allison.”   
  
Derek inhaled deeply, eyes flashing blue. “It’s an Argent alright, but not Allison.” He stepped back glaring at the door.   
  
Worry crossed Scott’s face, “Mr. Argent...what’s he doing here?” he asked a hint of panic in his voice, “He doesn’t know about Stiles.” But if they let him in eventually he’d figure it out.   
  
Stiles reached out and laid his hand on Scott’s arm, and then glanced at Derek. “Go hide,” he told him before heading toward the door. They had a couple of hours before the moon rose. No way was Argent going to stick around that long.   
  
Derek frowned, “Did you tell me to hide?” He asked baffled. “I don’t hide.”   
  
Scott frowned and followed his friend to the door, Derek standing stoically behind them.   
  
He rolled his eyes at Derek’s stubbornness, and reached out, unlocking and pulling the door open to see Chris Argent standing there, not looking very happy. “Argent,” he greeted cautiously.   
  
Chris frowned when Stiles opened the door. “Where’s Scott?” He asked not bothering with pleasantries as he glanced over Stiles shoulder and spotted his daughter’s boyfriend and Derek Hale. “What’s going on here?” He asked hand clenching at his side.   
  
“Nothing to be concerned about,” Stiles informed him. “What can we do for you?”   
  
Chris glared at Stiles, “First, you have no idea what concerns me and second, this isn’t your house.” He glanced over Stiles shoulder at Scott, “Is Allison here?” He asked eyebrow arched.   
  
Scott frowned as he rested a hand against Stiles’ shoulder signalling his friend to move aside. “No, why would Allison be here?” He asked genuinely confused.   
  
Chris pursed his lips. “She never came back from her jog,” he said quietly.   
  
Stiles remained unphased by Chris’s attempt at intimidation and glanced at Scott when he felt his best friend’s hand on his shoulder. “How long ago did she leave?” he questioned.   
  
Derek stood back a few feet, arms folded across his chest, eyes dark and narrowed, mouth twisted into a grimace.   
  
“Long enough that she should have been back by now,” He answered Stiles’ question, but his eyes were on Scott. “Have you seen her at all today?”   
  
Scott shook his head, “No, she wasn’t in school and she didn’t return my calls,” he said worry on his face. “What happened? Why wasn’t she in school?”   
  
Chris’ jaw clenched and he crossed his arms over his chest.   
  
A hint of anger sparked inside Scott his gaze darkening as he shifted forward. “I can’t help if _you_ don’t tell me what’s going on,” he said his voice holding a darker edge.   
  
Derek took one step forward, “Scott,” there was a warning in his tone.   
  
Scott took a deep breath and shifted back a wash of anger surging inside of him. He needed to focus, yes he was upset, but the anger was the full moon and he needed to be in control or he’d never be able to help Stiles. “Why wasn’t she in school?” He asked again this time quietly.   
  
Stiles grimaced as he realized he knew the answer to that question and he hadn’t thought about it. Truthfully he hadn’t been that concerned about Allison not being in school. He hadn’t made the connection to her aunt. He drew in a breath and shook his head, turning to Scott. “Because her aunt was killed. By Peter.” His gaze darted to Derek and then back to Chris.   
  
Scott’s eyes widened briefly and he shook his head, “No wonder she wasn’t answering,” he said quietly with a frown. “Where does she go running, I’ll go look for her.” He said before glancing at Derek, “Did you know?”   
  
Derek glanced between the three of them and shook his head. He hadn’t known and as much as he hated Kate, he’d never had the heart to kill her. No matter how many times she tortured him and despite what she’d done to his family. _He_ didn’t have the stomach to kill someone he thought he’d loved. That was the difference between them though, she’d never hesitated. He swallowed hard his face impassive as he slipped his clenched hands into his pockets. “No, I haven’t seen Peter,” thankfully, Derek added silently.   
  
“And you can’t exactly go after Allison tonight Scott. There are things that take precedence,” he said tone quiet careful not to shift his gaze to Stiles. Derek knew things were bad if _he_ was the voice of reason.   
  
Stiles drew in a breath and let it out slowly. “All things considered, it’s pretty feasible that Peter went after her,” he said after a moment, looking from Derek to Scott and pursing his lips. “He has it out for the Argent’s, and he attacked Lydia.”   
  
Chris nodded. “That’s what I’ve been worried about.” He sighed, “I just needed to see if maybe she was here.” He told them before starting to turn around.   
  
“Wait,” Scott called out frowning. “Peter is dangerous and you might not like me or us,” he motioned towards Stiles and Derek, “But with all the people he’s killed and the fact that he could be anywhere...you’re going to need our help to find Allison if he did take her. If we work together...we can find her and stop Peter.”   
  
“Scott’s right. You’re going to need our help,” Stiles said quietly, carefully avoiding Derek’s gaze and the disapproval he was sure was there.   
  
Chris snorted, “The only person in this room that might be helpful is Scott.” He said glanced between Stiles and Derek. “I don’t trust him,” he pointed at the blue eyed wolf and then glanced at Stiles, “And you’re human. You’d be more of a liability than anything.”   
  
His jaw tightened at that, eyes narrowing. “You mean like _you_?” he challenged, arching his eyebrows. “Who as far as I know, are _just_ human.” There was a hint of unmistakable bitterness in his voice. He felt Scott’s hand wrap around his arm in a tight hold. He didn’t move forward. “Fine, you don’t trust Derek and I’m a liability. I also have a bit of insight into how Peter Hale’s mind works.”   
  
Chris glared at the teenager. “I’m a trained hunter. I’ve been training since I was twelve years old and I don’t need your blood on my hands.” He snapped. Apparently the Argent hands were full of enough innocent blood to last a lifetime. “And if you have so much to share, why don’t you do that. Every second I waste here is another minute my daughter is in danger.” he told them.   
  
Derek grunted. “Yes, and the arguing is helpful in that respect.” He commented his tone bored and uncaring. “I’d listen to Stiles if I were you. He’s the only person who’s actually survived an encounter with Peter.” He told him with a shrug. That wasn’t exactly true, there was Lydia, but Derek wasn’t sure how she was even alive and healing, but not a werewolf.   
  
Scott nodded, “Derek’s right. Peter didn’t attack Stiles...so there must be something,” he paused, “You need us.” He repeated, “And we need to go now.” He said his gaze shifting to the window, the sunlight quickly fading.   
  
It was a good thing that Chris Argent didn’t have werewolf super hearing to hear the way both of their hearts skipped at the lie. He was getting more than a little tired of Argent’s attitude, though. He looked at Scott for a moment as something dawned on him. “It’s a trap,” he said quietly. “To draw you out.”   
  
Scott’s brows furrowed, “What?”   
  
Derek cocked his head to the side. “He’s right. Peter wants you in his pack. So he took the one thing he knows will get you to come to him,” he told him, not seeming too broken up about it. Then again Derek rarely showed how he really felt about anything.   
  
Scott frowned. “Well then we go. I don’t care what Peter wants. I’m not joining his pack and Allison isn’t his to take,” he sneered his eyes flashing making Chris tense in the doorway.   
  
This time Stiles’ hand gripped onto Scott’s arm, holding onto him tightly as his gaze locked on Chris’s tense form. “Can we trust _you_?” he asked, voice lower than usual.   
  
Chris arched an eyebrow, “You’re worried about me?” He asked, “It’s my daughter out there!” He snapped, “And you three are what I’m left with. I’ve already got hunters out there in the woods looking already. I think the real question is can I trust you three?”   
  
“Yes, because knowing the woods are full of hunters we don’t know inspires me to want to let my best friend go out there and get ambushed.” Stiles glared back at him. “If anything happens to Scott because of one of your buddies, you bet your ass my dad the _sheriff_ is going to find out everything there is to know that’s going on in this town.”   
  
Chris smirked, “Yes, the town sheriff, who knows nothing about what really goes on in this town is terrifying,” he said shaking his head.   
  
Scott glared at Chris Argent. “For someone who needs our help you’re not exactly inspiring it,” he said barely holding back a growl. His anger was building and his fear too. The thought that Allison was out there possibly hurt was killing him.   
  
Derek didn’t like this. Scott was edging on the verge of anger and the fact that Stiles was so tightly controlled didn’t bode well for how he’d be later.   
  
Stiles’ kept a firm grip on Scott’s arm as he heard the anger in his friend’s voice. “Scott’s off limits. Derek too. You let all of your hunters who know about them know that or you’re on your own to deal with Peter.”   
  
Scott made a strangled sound and glanced at his best friend. There was no way he was letting hunters find Allison because they never would. He knew her scent. He could find her. He _would_ find her.   
  
Chris’ eyes turned to slits as he watched Stiles closely. His gaze dropped to the teenagers hand on Scott’s arm and he idly wondered how exactly he was holding back the clearly irate werewolf. His eyes flickered back to Stiles’ face as he spoke. “I live by a code. I’ve said it more than once.” He commented.   
  
He wanted to point out that just because _Chris_ professed to live by a code didn’t mean that all of his hunting buddies did, too, but he also knew they were wasting precious time by arguing. His warning had been issued and he knew he wasn’t going to be able to hold Scott back much longer. Not with Allison out there and potentially in danger. He pulled his hand away from his best friend’s arm and turned his head to look at Derek, brown eyes intense.   
  
Derek looked away from Scott when he felt Stiles’ gaze on him. He was silent for a minute before speaking. “Scott you go with Chris,” he said quietly. “Stiles and I will start at the opposite end of the preserve, near my old house and we can meet up in the middle.” He commented. It was best if Stiles wasn’t near Chris once the moon rose...just in case.   
  
This was really, really not that way he’d anticipated his first full moon as a werewolf happening. At all. Then again, when did _anything_ ever work out the way he anticipated? He hated the idea of Scott going anywhere with Chris Argent, but he also knew that Derek had a point, even if it was unspoken. He got the meaning behind it. In a short couple of hours, Stiles was going to be a really pissed off werewolf and considering the amount of anger he felt toward Chris…   
  
He drew in a breath and let it out slowly. “Let’s do this.”   
  
Scott nodded and glanced at Chris, “I know her scent, this shouldn’t take us long.”   


______

  
  
Stiles felt himself growing more tense as he and Derek traipsed through the preserve, coming across the third body -- a man with his throat ripped out. By tooth or claw, he didn’t know. Either way he felt more than a little nauseous. Apparently that wasn’t something that was going to get better or easier just because he was now a creature of the night. “I really don’t like that Scott’s by himself with Argent,” he said, grinding his teeth together as they moved.   
  
Derek watched Stiles closely as they move through the preserve the tension in the teenagers body growing the deeper they moved into the woods. “It was a necessary evil,” he commented his eyes glowing blue as he searched the area around them with a frown. “Tracking him is hard,” he paused and turned to Stiles watching him appraisingly. “You can probably sense him if you try...he bit you, so there’s a connection there.” He explained.   
  
“Awesome,” he grumbled. “Just what I always wanted. A connection with the town psychopath.” He drew in a deep breath and let it out slowly. “So how do I do this? Like meditation? Because I have to tell you, I tried that once and I suck at it.”   
  
Derek shook his head. “No, just,” he paused searching for the right words, “concentrate and try to focus on Peter.” He paused, “How are you feeling?” He asked hesitantly, “You’re not getting homicidal on me are you? Because without Scott I might have to knock you out and just sort of let you cool down. With Peter out there killing everyone in sight apparently I can’t deal with you going ape shit too.” Derek told him.   
  
Stiles glanced at him sideways. “I don’t feel homicidal. I feel…” He hesitated, looking up at the trees and past it, the very slowly rising moon. “Strong.” It was a weird feeling. And his skin felt like it was getting hotter and he felt a vague sense of wanting to _run_. “But if you have to knock me out to keep me from hurting anyone, including you, just do it.”   
  
Derek nodded and then glanced at the sky, “It’s going to get stronger soon. Your body get’s this warm feeling and then emotions and sense are heightened. People don’t realize that the reason it’s so hard for bitten wolves to control at first is because the change happens at all once.” He told him as he dropped his gaze back to the line of trees and shifted forward taking everything in.   
  
“With born wolves, we learn how to handle the change from a young age a little bit at a time, which is why I can function fine on a full moon.”   
  
He followed him, remembering vividly how bad the first couple of times had been for Scott. “But Scott’s got it pretty well under control. Within four full moons. So that’s a good sign, right?” Then again, Scott had always been the more laid back of the two of them. Just because Scott could control himself now didn’t mean it wasn’t going to be difficult for him.   
  
Derek nodded, “It doesn’t take that long to learn how to control when a person actually listens,” he said pointedly looking over his shoulder at Stiles. “It’s just the first few times where things can go bad. Werewolves are predators by nature, but we don’t have to be murderers.”   
  
“I’d like to think that since I helped Scott figure it out maybe that gives me a slight tiny advantage.” It was probably wishful thinking, but he was holding onto it.   
  
Derek’s head tilted to the side when he heard something moving along the bushes. He paused briefly and nodded. “It’s possible, but helping with those feelings is probably a lot better than actually feeling them.” he commented.   
  
“Probably,” Stiles agreed, tempted to strip off his flannel shirt because dammit, he was _hot_. This whole werewolf thing was a serious pain in the ass. “So chances that your uncle’s slaughtered every hunter Chris sent out here?”   
  
“Oh he definitely did,” Derek said without hesitating. He could smell the blood across the preserve. Plus Peter was running on crazy. He wasn’t sure what the hell was going on with his Uncle, but this definitely wasn’t good.   
  
“At least I don’t have to worry about anyone but Argent shooting you or Scott,” Stiles responded, voice flat. It was a shitty silver lining, but considering what was going on, he was going to take a shitty silver lining over no silver lining. At the end of the day, Peter had murdered a lot of people. He just hoped like hell Allison wasn’t one of them. He wasn’t sure that Scott could handle that.   
  
Derek couldn't help the smirk that pulled at his lips. “That’s pretty bad,” he commented as they passed another body, “Though that one right there smashed the window of my Camaro so I’m not entirely too sad to see he’s no longer with us.” Derek froze. “Stop,” his voice was hushed and he shifted partway letting his senses expand. They were about forty feet from his old house and he sense another presence in the area.   
  
Stiles started to respond when Derek told him to stop and he watched the older werewolf shift, his own body going more tense as he looked up at the rundown house. His own senses were prickling, a feeling of wary dread washing over him as he looked around warily, trying to place the feeling.   
  
“It’s Allison, she’s alive,” Derek said moving forward quickly, but pausing when he realized Stiles wasn’t moving. He glanced over his shoulder, “What’s wrong?” He asked even as he pulled out his phone to text Scott and let them know they found Allison near his house.   
  
“Something isn’t right,” he said, tone hushed. “I feel -- it’s not the moon, it’s something...else.” He swallowed heavily and looked around again, heart beating a little faster in his chest.   
  
Derek frowned, “What’s it feel like? Describe it.” He told him as he slipped his phone back in his pocket, “I let Scott know where we are,” he commented as he studied Stiles’ face while keeping an ear out for Allison. After all he did owe her, she’d saved his life. After this they’d be even.   
  
“Trouble,” he whispered, meeting Derek’s eyes for a brief moment before his own eyes widened as Peter appeared suddenly right behind Derek. “Look out!”   
  
Derek turned, but before he could get out of the way Peter’s arm came out whacking him across the face and sending him flying.   
  
He sneered, “Does family mean nothing to you Derek? I thought we were on the same side.” Peter said as he casually wiped the blood off his hand.   
  
Derek grunted taking a minute to push himself up before moving his neck side to side before filly shifting and letting out a low growl. “You thought wrong.” He said eyeing Peter warily.   
  
Stiles hadn’t seen Peter since the night of the winter formal and his stomach twisted, nausea sweeping over him. Apparently werewolves still got nauseated. Good to know. And of course he knew they knew they were out there looking _for_ Peter, but it hadn’t really prepared him for the pure fear that shot through him at the sight of the older man. Especially now that he was covered in blood from head to toe. Stiles took a step back unconsciously.   
  
He glanced toward the house, where he could now hear another heartbeat -- Allison’s.   
  
Peter looked away from Derek and over at Stiles, a slow grin pulling at his lips. “Why hello my little Beta, how’s werewolf life treating you? I see the bite took and you didn’t die, personally I’m glad.” He commented lightly as he took a step towards him.   
  
Derek shifted forward as well growling again low in his throat.   
  
Peter glanced at his nephew and smirked before looking back at Stiles, “Oh that’s adorable. Is he here to be your big protector? Because it’s not going to do you much good. Besides...I’m sure you feel it Stiles...the slow burn inside your chest. The bubbling anger...the power,” Peter whispered.   
  
“Shut up,” Stiles responded, jaw tightening. “Just shut up. And while you’re at it, if you could stop, you know, slaughtering everyone in the town, that’d also be great.”   
  
Peter chuckled as he waved his hand around, “It’s just a few hunters,” he told the teenager, “After all they are your enemies now. They would have happily killed you if they knew what you were.” He said honestly. “So, tell me Stiles did you come with Scott? Are the two of you here for the youngest Argent because I do have her and I must say I can see why Scott fell in love with her.”   
  
Peter smirked, “Not quite as delectable as our fiery redhead, but spunky just the same.”   
  
Stiles’ eyes narrowed, flashing yellow even though he didn’t realize it. “They’re my enemies because you _made_ them my enemies. And I wouldn’t tell you shit about Scott if you were literally the last person on the planet.”   
  
A hint of glee filled Peter’s eyes at the flash of golden yellow he saw in Stiles eyes. “Is that so? Because I can sense him too you know. He’s not far.” Peter said lightly. “While we’re on the topic of people you care about where is Lydia this evening? Didn’t feel like inviting her out for a hike in the woods? Maybe I should pay her a visit at that big house of hers…I do so love pools.” He told Stiles with a smirk.   
  
He snarled, lunging toward Peter. “Stay away from both of them,” he growled, wrapping his hand around Peter’s throat before realizing his hands were now claws.   
  
Peter chuckled, eyes glowing red, fangs and claws elongating as he gripped Stiles’ neck tightly letting his claws dig into his skin lightly and shoving him back a few feet.   
  
Derek frowned, “Stiles, this is what he wants. Take a deep breath and control the anger, don’t let it control you.” He told the teenager sharply. If he lost control and gave into the anger it would be easier for Peter to influence his actions.   
  
Fury flickered through him and he growled as Peter shoved him away, barely able to focus on the sound of Derek’s voice. He curled his claws into his hands. “Get Allison,” he told Derek, voice barely recognizable.   
  
Derek hesitated, not sure leaving Stiles alone with Peter was the best idea. He tilted his head to the side and he could hear the sound of running in the distance, which meant Scott and Chris would be there soon. He pursed his lips and moved around them, “Be careful,” he called out before disappearing into the trees at full speed and heading for his old house.   
  
Peter smirked, “Aren’t you quite the hero...and ordering my nephew around, honestly I’m surprised he listened. You better hope he’s careful I’d hate for something to happen to him when he goes to free Allison,” Peter said mock worry in his voice.   
  
“What the hell does that mean?” he demanded, taking a step toward Peter, glaring at him and then looking toward the house. “Derek, wait!” he called out even though he didn’t see the older werewolf anymore.   
  
Peter cocked his head to the side, “Is that genuine worry for my nephew’s well being? Huh maybe he does have friends, who would have thought,” he replied, “And to think I thought no one would care if I killed him tonight. Oh well…” he said letting his voice trail off.   
  
A devious grin slid onto Peter’s lips, “Scott’s almost here Stiles, then we can get started. You, him, and me...a pack.”   
  
“I’ll never be in a pack with you,” he responded. “And neither will Scott. You really thought your little plan was going to work? Scott’s not a piece of shit like you. He’s not going to follow you.”   
  
Peter laughed, “Those are some fighting words Stiles and you’re right, Scott would never willingly be in a pack,” he tilted his head, “Unless he gave me his loyalties to save a certain brunette.” He told him with smirk. “Never underestimate the power of human love,” he mocked.   
  
So that was it. That was his true hail mary play. He was surprised he hadn’t realized that was what this was about. He just assumed Peter wanted Scott to _kill_ Allison as pack bonding since he was Peter and was creepy.   
  
“Maybe you should take your own advice.” Chris leveled his gun at Peter as he and Scott approached from behind.   
  
Peter rolled his eyes, “Should I?” He asked turning around and glancing at the gun. He pointed to it. “You think that’s going to stop me? Better question do you think your sister who I ripped apart didn’t have one? More than one actually.” He said his tone thoughtful.   
  
Scott growled ignoring Peter’s words, “Where is Allison?” He demanded voice dangerously low.   
  
“Derek’s getting her,” Stiles told Scott, jaw tightening as he glared at Peter.   
  
Chris cocked the gun. “I’m sure she did,” he responded, voice controlled. “But she was also alone. Somehow I don’t think you’re going to fare as well this time.”   
  
Peter waved a hand around them, “I killed all your hunters and these two,” he glanced between Stiles and Scott, “they might not know it yet, but they’re a part of my pack. You have no allies here.” He said feeling anger rumble inside of him as he started to shift.   
  
Scott winced at Peter’s words, not looking at Chris and instead keeping his eyes on Peter who was getting larger as his body transformed. “No. But I do have _bait,_ ” Chris responded with a smirk, firing the gun and shooting Peter in his arm before he could fully transform. Peter growled as a searing pain shot through his arm, his eyes glowing red. He glared in Chris’ direction and started moving towards him fast, but before he could get to the hunter Scott shifted forward bending slightly and using his body to ram into Peter. “I’m not your ally.” Scott growled, “Allison...I want her back now.” He told him his gaze shifting to Stiles briefly before going back to Peter.   
  
“Oh, Scott. I’m disappointed. Teaming up with a werewolf hunter? That doesn’t bode well for you,” Peter said with a mock sigh.   
  
Stiles’ jaw tightened. “Like having anything to do with _you_ bodes well for any of us.”   
  
Peter glanced between them, “I can kill Argent right now and then they’re all gone, no more hunters and I’ll even let you keep Allison, Scott, she can be like your little pet,” he said with a smirk.   
  
Anger boiled inside of Scott, “What did you just say?” His voice was barely recognizable as he advanced on Peter.   
  
Chris cocked his gun again, but before he had a chance to pull the trigger, Peter rushed him, knocking it out of his hands and sending it sailing feet away. He pulled his fist back and punched the werewolf in the face.   
  
Peter stumbled back from Chris’ punch and Scott attacked him right away shoving his body to the ground and clawing at his chest. Scott was lifting up his arm again to slash Peter in the face when the ground shook, a loud blast coming from thirty feet away as the remains of the Hale house went up in flames.   
  
Stiles felt himself thrown into the air and into a tree a few feet away from the force of the blast and for a moment he was sure he was dead. Then he remembered he wasn’t human anymore and he gritted his teeth and forced himself to his feet, eyes widening in horror as he stared at the house as it burned. The house that Derek and Allison had been inside.   
  
He didn’t know if they’d managed to get out or not.   
  
Scott and Chris were both thrown to the ground and Peter who was already on the ground just laughed. It took Scott a minute to push himself up despite the ache in his back. “Allison!” His cry echoed through the empty woods as he ran in the direction of the fire, leaving Peter, Stiles and Chris Argent behind, not even bothering to check if everyone was okay as fear gripped him. He couldn’t lose her, he couldn’t lose Allison.   
  
Stiles watched as Peter grabbed Chris off the ground, hurling him into the nearest tree. He winced as the hunter whacked his head hard and sank into unconsciousness. He moved quickly, darting over to where Peter was standing over Chris’s prone form and grabbing him away, shoving him. “He didn’t have anything to do with your family’s deaths. It was all _Kate_ and she’s dead. It’s over.”   
  
Peter whipped around growling at Stiles. “It will _never_ be over. Not as long as the Argents are still alive. Every last one of them needs to be eradicated. Don’t you get it Stiles?” He shoved the teenagers hand off of him, “It’s either us or them. Don’t you want to live a long life? You know if it was up to them they’d kill all of us...they’d kill Lydia too Stiles.” He paused, “They still aren’t convinced that my bite didn’t do something to her. They still have hunters watching her, tailing her movements.” He confided in him.   
  
“One day they’re going to think it’s too dangerous to let her live and then what?” He asked. “It’s self-preservation and the sooner you see that, the sooner we can get this over with. Don’t you see that?” He asked trying to pull the darkness inside of Stiles to the forefront.   
  
He gritted his teeth, resisting the urge he had to step back away from the man who’d done this to him to begin with. Who’d done this to _Lydia._ To Scott. “And you may have just killed your own nephew, so why the hell would I believe you care anything about _Lydia_?” he demanded. “I think you’re _crazy._ ”   
  
Peter smirked, “I care about more than you think...and if you were in my pack Stiles, Lydia would have my protection because _you_ care. But if you don’t want her to be safe,” he let his voice trail off as he glanced over towards the remains of the burning house.   
  
Without warning, Stiles slammed his fist into Peter’s face, sending him to the ground, hard. “We were _all_ safe until you came into the picture!”   
  
Peter stumbled slightly, but only because he hadn’t seen the punch coming. He glared at Stiles and started shifting again reaching out and grabbing him by the shirt before tossing him across the woods towards the fire. He stalked over to him closing the distance between them, “If you and Scott don’t join my pack I’ll kill you both,” he growled picking Stiles up by the neck.   
  
He lifted his hand ready to claw Stiles when something slammed into the back of his head knocking him forward and making him release Stiles.   
  
“I’m not going to let you kill my best friend,” Scott responded a large branch in his hand, the smoke irritating his eyes.   
  
Relief washed over Stiles at the sight of Scott there and still alive, even if there was a coat of soot all over his clothes and his face. “Hey buddy.” He quickly got to his feet again, moving to stand beside Scott and facing Peter.   
  
Peter growled loudly, lunging back and grabbing Scott by his neck and slamming him onto the ground. “You can be replaced.”   
  
Scott grunted when he hit the ground wincing slightly. “If you thought that was true you wouldn’t be trying so hard to get me on your side,” he said with a glower before glancing at Stiles and then eyeing the large branch he’d dropped only a few minute earlier.   
  
“I’m starting to think you’re more of a liability than an asset,” Peter informed him, tightening his hand around Scott’s throat.   
  
Stiles grabbed the back of Peter’s shirt, raking his claws against the back of his neck as he tried to forcefully pull him off Scott, who was now struggling to breathe. “Get off him!”   
  
Peter whipped his head around as another burst of pain made its way through his body. He released Scott’s throat and lunged for Stiles, but before he could reach him Peter was tackled to the ground.   
  
Derek leaned over him and growled, the sound echoing through the immediate area. His clothes were slightly burned, he was bleeding from a cut on the head and a few on his arms. His leather jacket was full of debris dust and he was royally pissed off.   
  
For the first time since they’d met a few months ago, Stiles thought _thank god. Derek’s here._ It was a combination of the realization that Derek was _alive_ and that alpha werewolf or not, three against one put the odds much better in the favor of Team Good Guy. He leaned over Scott, holding his hand out to help him up. “You okay?”   
  
Scott coughed a couple of times, but nodded, “Yeah,” he said while letting Stiles help him up. He patted his best friends back and then nodded his head as he advanced on Peter, Derek still looming above him.   
  
Derek glared at his uncle. “That’s the last time you try and kill me,” he snapped as he dug his claw deep into Peter’s chest and dragged it down his body.   
  
A gurgling sound escaped Peter’s mouth in response and then a smirk. “It wasn’t for _you_ , Derek. It was for the Argent’s.”   
  
“He’s lying. It was for whoever made the mistake of walking into that house,” Stiles said, grinding his teeth together.   
  
“I know,” Derek growled, “He’s always lying. About this, about Laura and even about why he wants Scott in his pack.” He said with a glare digging his claws further into Peter’s skin.   
  
Peter cried out in pain and used his body to jerk his nephew off of him. Derek flew to the side right as Scott lunged for Peter, glancing over his shoulder at his best friend. “Stiles, help me!”   
  
Stiles was moving before Scott even asked, but before he had a chance to get any closer, Peter had his claws slashing at Scott’s chest and he felt sick as the smell of his best friend’s _blood_ pierced his nose. Without a second thought, he lunged forward, slashing his own claws over Peter’s neck, rage flooding him. He slashed them through his skin, gagging involuntarily as he felt them catch on something -- muscle or bone, he didn’t know. He was atop the older werewolf, heart beating hard in his chest as he watched with horror as blood poured from the wounds too rapidly to heal themselves.   
  
He stared as the light in Peter’s eyes grew dark before his eyelids shut completely, his heart stopping.   
  
“Oh god,” he whispered, face paling. “Oh my god.”   
  
Scott was gripping his chest as he sat up eyes wide.   
  
Derek pushed himself off the ground and rushed over, “Oh no...is he dead? Did you kill him?” But he already knew the answer. He couldn’t hear Peter’s heartbeat. Derek closed his eyes and shook his head. Not because Peter was dead, but because Stiles had no idea what he’d just done. “Son of a bitch,” he swore.   
  
Scott frowned as he stood, “What? We stopped him.” He said as he winced.   
  
Stiles remained silent, listening to the rush of blood in his ears. He’d just killed someone. His dad was the _sheriff_ and he’d just killed someone. A bubble of hysteria was rising in his chest and he was pretty sure he was going to throw up. Distantly it dawned on him that Scott was okay, at least, and he was glad for that. But he was a murderer.   
  
“What happened?” Chris Argent asked groggily as he sat up a few feet away. “Where’s Allison?”   
  
Derek dropped his head to his chest. “I hate this fucking town,” he grumbled. He glanced behind him at Chris Argent. “Allison is fine. I tripped the blast wire when I untied her. She was unconscious so I put her in the bushes.” He told him simply before glancing between Scott and Stiles. “Do you two idiots have any idea what happens when you kill an alpha?” He asked walking around so he was facing Stiles. He could see the teenager panicking slightly and he slapped him gently. “Focus. Do you have any idea?”   
  
Stiles flinched at the smack and he looked up at Derek. “How the hell would we? It’s not like anyone in your family is big into sharing any relevant information!” He rose to his feet, looking at his hands -- claws now gone. He was shaking, blood covering them and he quickly scrubbed them on his jeans. Jesus Christ. How had this happened so quickly?   
  
Derek pursed his lips. “When you kill an alpha, you become an alpha,” he told them.   
  
Scott opened and closed his mouth, “What?”   
  
“WHAT?!” Stiles stared at him in horror. “What? _No_!” No. Just no. This had to be some kind of cosmic joke, right? He’d been a werewolf for all of five freaking minutes and now he was somehow an _alpha_ werewolf? What the hell sense did that even make? He didn’t know how to be a regular one let alone some kind of power-crazed kind. Oh my god, he thought. I’m going to go crazy like Peter, too.   
  
“Calm down.” Derek said immediately as he glanced over at Chris who was moving to find Allison.   
  
Scott tightened his hold on his stomach as he frowned. “That’s not true...is it?”   
  
Derek rolled his eyes, “Why would I lie?” He asked before shaking his head. “You need to get out of here. Now. We helped find Allison, she’s fine. And the alpha is dead. It’s time for you two to go. I’ll take care of Peter’s body,” he said glancing over at his uncle.   
  
Except the alpha wasn’t dead. Not really. Because now _Stiles_ was the freakin’ alpha. This was terrible. Nothing about this situation was good. He looked at Scott, feeling sick to his stomach, face drained of all color.   
  
Scott shifted over to Stiles resting a hand on his shoulder even as he wobbled slightly, the wounds in his chest throbbing. “Maybe it didn’t happen this time...Maybe because you were bitten not born you’re not an alpha,” he offered, “How do you feel?” He asked as he watched Derek walking over to Peter just shaking his head at their conversation.   
  
“Like I’m gonna puke,” he mumbled, forcing himself to take a deep breath and wincing at the blood on his friend’s shirt, at the wounds dug into his skin. “You look awful, dude. We should get you to Deaton.”   
  
Scott sent him a hesitant smile, “Seems like the same old Stiles to me,” he joked before nodding, “Deaton would be good. I’m not healing.” He said quietly though his gaze lifted as he sought out Allison.   
  
“You are healing,” Derek said grunting as he dragged Peter’s lifeless body a few feet and then dropped him pausing. “Just slowly because the wounds are from an alpha. Maybe I’ll just let Argent take care of the body,” he said quietly wiping his hands on his pants.   
  
Stiles looked alarmed immediately at Scott’s words and then he looked over at Derek. “Okay, so how long is slowly gonna be? He can’t exactly go home around his mom with half his skin missing.” Or around Stiles’ dad for that matter.   
  
Derek closed his eyes briefly and then glanced up at Stiles and Scott. “By tomorrow night it should be mostly healed up.” He told them before glancing between them. “What’s the problem?”   
  
A short, humorless laugh escaped Stiles’ mouth. “Do you have like, a _week?_ ” he asked, holding his arms out wide and shaking his head.   
  
Derek sighed as he glanced between the two teenagers still trying to figure out how this was his problem, even though he knew it was. They knew nothing about werewolves, not really and now one of them was an alpha. Derek grunted, “Look, just, just go home okay? I’ll find you guys later and you can ask your questions.” Right now Derek needed to figure out where the hell he was going to live and why there was a slight twinge in his chest knowing the last bit of family he had was dead. It wasn’t like he got along with Peter, never had.   
  
Stiles watched him for a long moment, taking note of the weary expression on his face. He shut his eyes and exhaled slowly before turning to Scott. “We can go to my house. My dad’s working the night shift tonight and won’t be home til mid-morning.” He wrapped his arm around Scott’s waist for extra support, pausing when he caught sight of Allison and Chris Argent watching them intently from a few feet away.   
  
Scott followed Stiles’ gaze and he hesitated not sure what to do. He watched Allison for a minute wanting to make sure she was alright, but not sure if now was the right time.   
  
“I’ve got to talk to Argent about the body, I’ll make sure she’s fine. You need to get him to Deaton. I’ve got this,” Derek said again, “Go.” He didn’t need to see the little love scene between Allison and Scott play out, plus Scott didn’t need to give Chris another reason shoot him.   
  
“He’s right. We need to go,” Stiles said very quietly. “We’ll catch up to her later, okay? You’re hurt, and Chris already hates us.”   
  
Allison managed a faint smile as she looked over at Scott and Stiles.   
  
Scott swallowed hard and nodded, “Yeah...okay.” He said quietly returning the smile halfheartedly. He glanced at Derek briefly and nodded at him.   
  
Derek watched them walk away and he pursed his lips before glancing at Argent and his daughter as they moved closer to him. He motioned to Peter. “You got this?” He asked, tone clipped.   
  
Chris’s jaw tightened. “I need to get Allison home,” he informed Derek in a tone every bit as clipped.   
  
“You’re the hunter,” Derek said annoyed, “It’s not my job to dispose of werewolves and since you didn’t do much else tonight,” His jaw clenched gaze shifting to Allison. He gave her a brief once over, surmised she was just fine and then looked back at Chris.   
  
Chris glared at Derek for a long moment. He supposed he did owe Derek for saving Allison’s life. Might as well pay off his debt as soon as possible by getting rid of his uncle’s body. “Fine.”   
  
“Good,” He said before glancing back at Allison. “I’ll tell Scott you're fine.” He said before turning and heading back into the woods away from the dwindling fire behind him.


	7. Chapter 7

Stiles sat still and silent in a chair beside the metal table where his best friend lay unconscious in the back room of Deaton’s clinic. His hand was clasped gently over Scott’s arm as he focused intently the way Deaton had instructed him hours earlier, closing his eyes as he pulled pain from the other werewolf. He was healing, but very slowly. According to Deaton, Derek had been telling the truth -- wounds from an alpha took longer to recover from than most.   
  
He couldn’t actually _heal_ Scott, but he could take as much of the pain from his friend that he could stand. He looked up and opened his eyes when he heard the vet’s footsteps coming up from behind him.   
  
“How’s he doing?” Deaton asked as he wiped his hands off on the paper towel and then tossed it in the garbage before walking around and coming to stand on the opposite side of Scott. “It looks like his color is returning, that’s always good.” He commented with a calm smile as he looked over at Stiles.   
  
“Yeah, I just wish he’d wake up,” Stiles admitted, exhaling slowly and looking back at Scott with worried eyes. He shifted his gaze to the older man. “You’re not exactly a vet, are you? Or not _just_ a vet. I mean, you know a lot about this stuff. Like way more than Scott knows and he’s a werewolf.” He paused. “Are _you_ a werewolf?”   
  
Deaton laughed lightly and shook his head. “I am not.” He said with a warm smile watching Stiles briefly before glancing at Scott. “I’m a vet...and sometimes I’m not. How much do you know about Beacon Hills history involving werewolves?” He asked curiously.   
  
“Not a lot. I mean, I know about…” He hesitated and pursed his lips. “I know there was a family of them that were basically wiped out by a terrible fire.”   
  
Deaton nodded, “The Hale family. Beacon Hills is their territory, has been for hundreds of years actually,” he paused meeting Stiles gaze, “Until now I suppose.” He eyed the teenager cautiously. “Every pack has what’s called an emissary.” He explained as he rested his hands on either side of the metal table near Scott’s head.   
  
“My family, we’re Druids, and we’ve been the emissaries for the Hale family since before I can remember.” He sent Stiles half a smile. “I was Talia Hale’s emissary, Derek’s mother, before she was killed.”   
  
He winced at that, looking down. He was trying really hard not to think about how he’d killed someone last night. Even if the person had been a psycho killer himself. It wasn’t a good feeling. And regardless of what he’d done, he _had_ been Derek’s last remaining family member. Of course he’d also tried to kill Derek the previous night. And it wasn’t like Stiles and Derek were actually friends. He shoved all those thoughts away and forced himself to concentrate on what Deaton was saying.   
  
“Emissaries. Like...mentors or something?” he asked, trying to remember the definition of the word.   
  
Deaton nodded, “Something like that. We guide the packs, help the alpha with important decisions and when people get hurt,” his gaze drifted to Stiles. “We’re here to help maintain the balance. The Hale family has been protecting Beacon Hills from other supernatural beings for a long time.” Deaton pressed his lips together.   
  
“Talia’s death was a tragedy.” He said quietly, “She was an exceptional alpha, incredibly powerful and respected. Packs would come from all over for her guidance,” he explained. Deaton remember the night she died. He’d never heard so much howling at the loss, and not just from Derek and Laura, but from packs of all kinds coming to pay their respects.   
  
And there was that word again. Alpha. Intellectually he knew what it was. At least in terms of actual wolves. But the only one he’d ever had the displeasure of meeting was Peter Hale. He hadn’t exactly been an exceptional _anything_. Except maybe exceptionally insane. He swallowed heavily, gaze drifting to Scott and he reached out, laying his hand on his best friend’s shoulder.   
  
“I have no idea what I’m supposed to do. I’m sixteen. I’ve literally been a werewolf for a _week._ How do I get rid of it? Can I just...will it to somebody else?” he asked hopefully.   
  
Deaton sent Stiles a sympathetic look, “I’m sorry, it doesn’t work that way.” He hesitated before stepping away and grabbing a stool. He brought it back over to the table and sat across from Stiles. “There are only two ways to become an alpha and one is more common than the other,” he let out a breath, “If a wolf kills an alpha they absorb their power. That’s just how it works, when you beat an apex predator you automatically become the alpha male or female may the case be.” He explained as he rested his hands on his legs.   
  
“The only way to get rid of it would be if someone killed you. Then they would absorb your power.”   
  
Stiles groaned and dropped his head onto the metal table, resisting the urge to lift it up and bang it down again for effect. That really, really wasn’t the answer he’d wanted to hear even if it didn’t surprise him. “I’m so not cut out for this,” he mumbled.   
  
“How do you know what you’re cut out for unless you try?” Deaton asked. “Everything happens for a reason Stiles.” He angled his head to the side, “This is going to be difficult. But you’re not alone. If you have questions you can come to me. And you have Scott too,” Deaton paused, “And believe it or not Derek knows quite a bit about all of this. When his mother died his sister Laura became the alpha, the Hale women tend to become alpha’s rather than the males, all packs are different,” he explained, “But when Peter killed Laura he became the alpha and well, we all know how that worked out. It doesn’t have to be that way though. The kind of alpha you are depends on the kind of person you are and what your priorities are.”   
  
“I’m not leader material. I’ve never been. I have _one_ friend and he’s lying unconscious on your table at the moment. People don’t _like_ me. Okay? I’m an annoying little shit,” he blurted out, waving his hands around as he stared at Deaton, shaking his head. “I have the attention span of like, a fruit fly. And my priorities before all this were pretty much to graduate high school and no longer be a virgin!” He grimaced. “Pretend you didn’t hear that.”   
  
A hint of amusement crossed Deaton’s face. That was pretty much every teenage boy. “Stiles, people can change. And having a pack pretty much guarantees you won’t be alone.” Deaton was silent for a minute, “But if this isn’t something you want to pursue, you don’t have to. But know this, a new alpha is not something that goes unnoticed by the werewolf community. Sooner or later other wolves, possibly even packs will come to town to assess the situation.” Deaton hesitated, “If they sense weakness those people will try to take over this territory by killing the current alpha.”   
  
“I have no pack! I have Scott. Just Scott.” He raked a hand through his buzz cut hair, trying not to freak out by everything Deaton was saying, but he was...sort of freaking out about everything Deaton was saying. “What are you saying, like when I killed Peter -- which by the way I didn’t mean to do, I just wanted to stop him from killing _Scott_ \-- it sent out some kind of invisible sign to all the other werewolves nearby like the freakin’ Bat signal?” Because how did that even _work?_ A short semi-hysterical laugh bubbled up from inside of him. “Oh, good. Because no pressure there or anything.”   
  
Deaton sighed. “Stiles, technically Scott isn’t in your pack.” He said ignoring everything else Stiles had been bumbling on about. “You’re correct, you have no pack at the moment and as far as I know there are only two wolves in Beacon Hills. Scott and Derek would both need to accept you as their alpha before you had a pack.” He said simply.   
  
“This is actually crazy,” Stiles informed him before laying his head down on the table again. “What if we like, temporarily killed me and brought me back? Someone else can have the whole alpha thing. Scott can have it. Scott would be a great alpha.”   
  
Deaton shook his head, “Look, I know this is a lot Stiles. I know it’s difficult to understand and to grasp at the moment. Take a day or two, decide what you want to do, but this isn’t something that can be changed. It is what it is. And you need to go from here. From this point on everything is going to change and I’m aware at your age...that sucks to put it plainly,” he told him quietly.   
  
“But it’s the way things are sometimes and this doesn’t have to be a bad thing. It can help you grow as a person. It could be the best thing that’s ever happened with time.” Deaton said keeping his tone calm.   
  
Stiles shut his eyes as Deaton spoke, because yeah. It really did suck. A lot. Granted, he’d been helping Scott deal with all of the werewolf stuff since day one, but it still wasn’t the same. And how the hell was he going to be able to keep this from his dad for the rest of his life? Although hey, if other werewolves showed up and killed him because he was weak, he wouldn’t have to keep it a secret because he’d be dead.   
  
...not such a great silver lining, really. He forced himself to take a deep breath and let it out slowly, focusing on the sound of Scott’s steady heartbeat as he slept.   
  
Right now he just needed his best friend to wake up and be okay. Hopefully Scott could help him figure things out from there.   
  
______   
  
Allison sat curled up on her bed, staring blankly toward the window. Aunt Kate was dead, and so was the werewolf who killed her. She had no idea where she stood with her parents, or with Scott. She’d nearly been blown to bits the previous night and only hadn’t been because her aunt’s killer’s nephew saved her life.   
  
It was all very, very confusing. She heard a quiet knock on her door and pursed her lips. She didn’t really feel like talking, but it wasn’t like she could keep shutting her parents out forever, either. “Come in.”   
  
Chris took a deep breath letting it out slowly before pushing open his daughter’s bedroom door and stepping inside. “Hey,” he said quietly before walking slowly across the room and sitting hesitantly on the edge of Allison’s bed. “I thought maybe it was time for us to talk.” He told her keeping his tone soft.   
  
It had been a long night and there was a lot that had happened. Chris knew Allison couldn’t just be okay with everything and he wanted her to talk to him about what was on her mind.   
  
“Are you actually going to tell me everything? Or is this going to keep being a ‘keep Allison in the dark until the last possible minute when she finds out in some horrible way on her own’ thing?” she asked, turning her head to look at him.   
  
Chris winced and then shook his head. “No,” he caught his daughter’s gaze, “This is the talk where I treat you like an adult and let you ask whatever it is you want to know. Now’s your chance,” he commented lightly.   
  
She looked at him, expression still guarded for the moment. “Well, I want to know everything. All of it.”   
  
Chris sighed and ran a hand over his head. “There’s a lot,” he warned. “Our family have been hunters since before they started keeping written records of things, or so your grandfather says,” Chris rolled his eyes slightly. His father had always been a bit dramatic when telling this story.   
  
“I’ve been a hunter since I was sixteen, your aunt Kate too. I’ve known your mom for a long time. We were friend’s first. Our families knew each other from hunting.” he explained even though everyone outside of the ‘know’ had always thought they’d met in college. It was a lie, like most of his life really.   
  
Chris told Allison about living in Beacon Hills, Kate and Derek, his father’s disapproval and their code. “We came back here because of the alpha,” he admitted, “Because of Peter.”   
  
“And now that he’s dead?” she asked after a long moment, trying to process everything he was telling her. Because there was a lot to process and she felt a little overwhelmed, but she’d handle it. “Are we leaving again?”   
  
Chris watched his daughter for a minute before shaking his head. “No, we’re staying. We have to.” He said quietly. “Peter isn’t the only wolf in town and now that there’s a new alpha...well that’s going to bring even more werewolves into town.” He explained his words gentle.   
  
“Okay, but we’re not going after Scott and Stiles and Derek, right?” She looked at him intently, arching her eyebrows. “Because they haven’t done anything wrong.”   
  
Chris was silent for several minute before sighing. “As long as none of them kill anyone, we won’t go after them,” he paused, “But Allison if they cross that line, if any one of them kill a human you need to understand that we won’t hesitate to take them down.”   
  
“I can’t vouch for Derek. I don’t really know him, aside from the fact that he saved my life,” Allison said pointedly. “But I can vouch for Scott _and_ Stiles. They won’t kill anyone.” Her voice was confident.   
  
Chris made a face. “Okay, so I’ve been a little unfair to Derek,” he said begrudgingly. “I didn’t know about Kate...what she did,” his chest tightened, “It’s inexcusable. We’ve killed people for less.” He admitted quietly. “You can always tell which wolves are dangerous, usually by the color of their eyes.” He admitted.   
  
“What do you mean?” she asked curiously, frowning. “What does that have to do with anything?”   
  
Chris shifted on the bed, “Well alphas have red eyes when they shift. They’re the most dangerous usually because typically they have the most powers. Betas and Omegas can have golden eyes or blue eyes. Blue eyes mean they’ve taken innocent life.”   
  
“So Stiles’ eyes are red because he’s the new alpha, and Scott’s are golden because he’s a beta,” she said slowly.   
  
Chris nodded, “Yes, that’s correct.” He told her.   
  
And Derek’s were blue. Which meant he’d killed, apparently. A fact that she was not going to mention to her dad at this point. “I want to read everything we have. Any books or journals.” She knew they existed because she’d seen them in his study. “And I want you to teach me more about weapons. I can handle a bow and arrow but I want to be able to take care of myself.”   
  
Chris arched an eyebrow, “Did you think now that you know we weren’t going to train you?” He asked with a half a smile. “We’ll start training this Monday.” He told her. “And I’ll dig up the books and give those to you either later or tomorrow.”   
  
Allison relaxed at that, smiling back faintly. “Okay. Good.” She paused. “How bad are things going to get around here, Dad?”   
  
Chris pursed his lips. “Depends,” he said with a shrug. “Could get pretty bad.”   
  
“Depends on what, exactly?” she asked, shifting a little and wrapping her arms around her knees.   
  
Chris sighed, “On whether or not your grandfather comes to town and what happens with the wolves. Stiles...that must be fairly new,” he told her knowing she had to have known, “And now he’s an alpha. He probably has no idea what that means. If Peter had died on his own his power most likely would have gone to the only remaining Hale, which is Derek,” he clarified.   
  
“But since Stiles killed him, it goes to him and honestly...that’s just a trainwreck waiting to happen.” He said with a shake of his head.   
  
She looked away at his knowing look when he mentioned Stiles being fairly new. “He did it to save Lydia,” she informed him. “Peter gave him a choice -- either take the bite or he’d kill her. It was the night she was attacked. The night of the winter formal.” It was her turn to give _him_ a look.   
  
“And maybe it won’t be so bad. Stiles is a good guy. A little weird sometimes, but definitely good.”   
  
Chris shifted on the bed again and sighed. “It has nothing to do with that. It has to do with the fact that he has no idea what he just got himself into. Werewolves know when there’s a new alpha and Beacon Hills has always been under the Hales protection, at least it was when Talia was alpha,” he paused remembering the other woman briefly. As far as werewolves went she actually wasn’t half bad.   
  
“But now the town is vulnerable, which is why we need to stay. If other alphas come to challenge Stiles for the territory it’s quite possible he wouldn’t win.”   
  
Allison stared at him for a moment. “You’re saying that Stiles’ life is in danger now because he’s the new alpha.” What a mess. Who would have figured there were politics involved with becoming a _werewolf_?   
  
“Because he’s an alpha who doesn’t even know how to be a werewolf.” Chris replied.   
  
“Then we help him,” she said immediately. “Somehow. I mean, if our whole family’s been hunting them for centuries, we have to have some kind of information that would help him figure things out.”   
  
Chris stared at his daughter, “Are you crazy?” He asked with a frown. “We don't help werewolves Allison. Absolutely not. Just be happy that Scott and Stiles are still alive.” He told her pointedly, “We won’t get involved in this. That’s not what we do.”   
  
And Allison stared right back at him, narrowing her eyes. “They are sixteen years old. They’re younger than _me_. They’re just kids. And what if this was me going through this? Wouldn’t you want _someone_ to help me?” she challenged, rising to her feet and folding her arms across her chest.   
  
Chris swallowed hard, “If it were you...Allison. Don’t ever let it be you.” His voice was hard. “Argents have more than one code and those of us who get bitten...we don’t make it to the next full moon.” He told her matter-of-factly even as his chest constricted.   
  
She stared at him. “That’s actually _crazy_ ,” she said, shaking her head. “Are you sure I’m not adopted?”   
  
Chris frowned. “I’m starting to think you might be,” he joked trying to ease the tension in the room before pushing himself up off the bed. “Let’s leave the conversation here for now okay?” He asked, “I’ll go find those books for you.” He told her.   
  
She pursed her lips, nodding slightly. “All right.” If her dad wouldn’t help her help Stiles and Scott with whatever information he knew, then she’d just read everything she could and do it herself.   
  
Chris nodded, “Alright.” He leaned over and pressed a light kiss to the top of her head. “I love you.” He said quietly before shifting back and heading for the door.   
  
Her expression softened at that and she looked down at the floor. “I love you, too.”   
  
______   
  
Scott smiled at the lunch lady and slid his tray down the line until he got to the end. He paid and then shifted back pausing and waiting for Stiles. He glanced at his friend’s tray noticing there was just as much food there as on his own and he grinned. “Dude, I think your appetite has like tripled,” he said with a short laugh.   
  
It had taken close to two days, but Scott was finally healed from Peter’s attempt to kill him. He was doing a lot better than he had been and he knew he owed that in large part to his best friend.   
  
Stiles looked down at his tray and then grinned sheepishly, shrugging. “Yeah, well. Don’t need the Adderall anymore? Kinda helps,” he admitted. “Hopefully it’ll also clear up the whole insomnia thing, too.” He followed Scott to their normal table, sitting down on one of the benches and opening his carton of chocolate milk.   
  
“I get pretty tired,” Scott commented as he sat across from Stiles and opened his ice tea. “How you feeling man? Everything good?” Scott knew he kept asking the same thing, but he couldn't help it. He knew his friend was having trouble dealing with things and he wanted to help.   
  
“I was always tired, too. I just couldn’t sleep. My mind wouldn’t shut down.” He was kind of worried it wouldn’t shut down for other reasons now. But he knew his best friend knew all of that already. He glanced across the table at Scott, giving him a look. “Hasn’t changed in the last twenty minutes since the last time you asked me, dude.” His tone wasn’t harsh, just matter-of-fact.   
  
Scott sent him a sheepish look. “Sorry,” he glanced down and opened his burger lifting it and taking a large bite. He looked up and glanced around the cafeteria briefly his shoulders slumping slightly when he didn’t spot Allison. It was Monday and he hadn’t spoken to her since Friday when the whole thing went down with Peter. “Have you seen Allison at all today?”   
  
“It’s fine,” he said with a shrug, taking a bite of his own burger and glancing around when Scott did. “She was in history this morning.” It was the only class Stiles and Scott didn’t have together aside from study hall.   
  
A hint of relief crossed Scott’s face. “Good, I haven’t seen her since the other night. I want to make sure she’s okay.” He said before taking another bite of his burger. “How’s your day been going?” He asked trying to keep the conversation normal. Scott knew Stiles wasn’t ready to talk about the whole alpha thing yet, plus they probably shouldn't talk about it at school anyway.   
  
Scott was kind of -- well the word that came to mind was _adorable_ but Stiles wrinkled his nose in disgust at the word because he was a guy and guys did not think other guys were adorable. “She seemed fine this morning,” he assured his best friend, taking a drink of chocolate milk. “And it’s been okay. How about yours?”   
  
Scott shrugged, “Alright I guess. Got a test back, C,” he stated, which he supposed was better than an ‘F’ but still not great. “I need to get my grades on track or my mom is going to kill me,” he said with a sigh and that was the last thing he needed on top of everything else.   
  
“Or worse yet, ground you. Probably from me.” He frowned. “So this weekend, we’re studying.” Plus studying with Scott and trying to help his friend get back on track grade-wise sounded like a sufficiently excellent distraction from...all of the other things he didn’t want to focus on. He caught sight of the familiar brunette heading for their table. “Incoming.”   
  
Scott glanced behind him and his face brightened when he spotted Allison. “Hey,” he called with a grin as he pulled out the chair beside him.   
  
“Hey,” she greeted with a soft smile as she sat down beside him, reaching out and laying her hand on his arm. She leaned over and pressed a kiss to his cheek. “I have good news. I get my phone back at the end of the week.”   
  
Scott smiled and rested a hand on Allison’s leg. “That’s awesome, I’ve missed you.” He said softly as he leaned in and pressed a kiss against her cheek. “How’s everything going at home?” he asked his brows furrowing.   
  
“I’ve missed you, too,” she said honestly, resting her hand over his. “It’s been...interesting.” She glanced over at Stiles and then back at Scott. “Are you two both okay?”   
  
“A-okay,” Stiles responded, stuffing a curly fry into his mouth.   
  
Scott glanced at Allison and made a face. Stiles had been saying he was fine since this whole thing happened, but Scott knew he wasn’t. “So what else is new?” he asked Allison as he took another bite of his burger.   
  
“A lot, actually,” she said quietly. “But this...probably isn’t the best place to discuss all of it. But I think I may be able to help you guys.”   
  
Scott glanced over at Allison, eyebrows arched with curiously. “Help us?” He asked as he shifted angling his body in her direction. “Think you can get away this weekend?” Scott reach for his iced tea and took a sip, “You can tell us more about it then.” He commented.   
  
“I’m sure I can manage, yeah.” She nodded a little, about to say something else when she spotted Lydia making her way toward them, carrying a tray with a bowl of salad. She lifted her hand in a wave, a smile spreading across her face.   
  
Stiles knew she was approaching without even turning around or looking at Allison. He recognized the sound of her heartbeat. He sat up a little straighter at the table, eyes widening just a little as he looked at Scott. Granted, the two of them had spent half the day together just a couple days ago, but he was pretty sure that confidence was all thanks to the full moon that had been approaching because suddenly he felt very nervous.   
  
Lydia smiled when Allison waved and continued walking towards her best friend. She spotted Jackson at a table a few feet in front of her and she continued past him heading to the table with Allison, Scott and, Stiles.   
  
He shifted slightly on the bench, scooting over to give Lydia space to sit down across from Allison, beside him. “Hey,” he greeted with a small smile.   
  
Lydia set her tray down, flipped her hair back over her shoulder and then sat beside Stiles, pressing her hand down to flatten out her skirt as she sent him a glance, “Hey,” she returned with bright smile before glancing at Allison. “What are we talking about?”   
  
“Weekend plans,” Allison told her with a small smile. “And how I’ll be getting my phone back by Friday. What about you? Any plans this weekend, Lydia?” she asked, taking a bite of her apple.   
  
Lydia shrugged with an exaggerated eye roll. “Jackson and I had plans to go to some stupid car show, but now that we’re no longer together I don’t have to go and pretend it’s fun. So, I’m thinking a little pool time and relaxation would be good for my mental health.” She replied while opening the small packet of dressing and dribbling some on her salad.   
  
“I think pool time and relaxation are always good for mental health,” Stiles responded, taking a bite of his burger. Plus she could do so much better than Jackson Whittemore.   
  
Lydia glanced at him arching an eyebrow in his direction. “Is that your way of letting me know you’d like to come join me in my relaxation?” She asked amused as she speared a small round tomato and brought it to her lips.   
  
He chewed and swallowed his food, eyes a little wider than before. “Uh. Well, I mean I was agreeing with you?”   
  
Lydia tilted her head confusion on her face, “So you’re saying you don’t want to come over and relax by the pool?” She took another bite of salad and shook her head. “Well that’s a first, moving on,” Lydia’s gaze shifted to Allison. “What about you? Pool? Bikinis? Drinks?” She inquired lightly.   
  
Stiles resisted the urge to slam his head down against the table in response.   
  
“Most definitely,” Allison responded without hesitation, a tiny amused grin on her face at Stiles’ reaction to Lydia’s words.   
  
Scott took another bite of his burger to keep from laughing. He chewed and swallowed before glancing at Allison, “Maybe we can do something after? Unless Lydia doesn’t mind me tagging along,” he said letting his voice trail off as he glanced at the redhead.   
  
Lydia looked at Scott catching sight of the pathetic kicked puppy look on his face. “Oh sweetie, those eyes do nothing for me.” She said simply, “But I never said you couldn’t come. If Allison wants to bring you, she can.” Lydia said with a shrug, not really caring all that much. She didn’t have anything against Scott.   
  
She felt eyes on her and she shifted her gaze spotting Jackson looking over at them. Lydia arched an eyebrow in his direction before looking away and taking another bite of salad.   
  
Stiles frowned at Scott since they’d already made plans to do the studying thing and try to bring his grades up that weekend, but he remained silent. He finished off his burger, feeling Jackson’s eyes on them as well and resisting the urge to smirk at the annoyed expression on his face. He met the guy’s eyes and shrugged slightly before picking up his milk and finishing it off, too.   
  
Then his gaze shifted to a table in the back where a girl sat alone, blonde hair hanging down in her face as she sat hunched over her lunch. His senses prickled and he wondered if Scott could feel it, too, but he didn’t even glance at him as he rose to his feet, moving toward her just as she fell from her chair and onto the ground, shaking violently.   
  
Scott had felt it too and when he glanced up Stiles was already across the lunchroom. He got up when he spotted Erica hit the ground and moved beside Stiles, “What do we do?” He asked worry in his voice as he glanced between his friend and Erica.   
  
“Move her carefully onto her side and keep her away from the table and chairs. Most seizures don’t last more than 120 seconds; if it’s longer than that you should probably call 911.” Lydia told him.   
  
Scott glanced up at the familiar voice not realizing Lydia and Allison had followed him over to Stiles and Erica.   
  
Stiles didn’t look up even as he listened and followed Lydia’s words, shifting Erica carefully onto her side, facing away from him and smoothing some hair back and out of her face, a pained expression on his face. He kept a hand lightly on her arm, focusing but not finding any pain to be drawn from her. At least that was a relief. He looked up in time to see a couple of kids snapping pictures on their phones and his jaw tightened. Assholes.   
  
Allison moved over to where one of the boys stood, reaching out and grabbing his phone. “How would you like it if someone took a picture of one of your most vulnerable moments?” she demanded. She deleted the picture and looked at the other guy. “Delete it now or yours I’m breaking.” There wasn’t a hint of kidding in her tone.   
  
The kid watched her for a minute before rolling his eyes and deleting the picture before walking away saying they should learn to take a joke.   
  
Scott’s jaw clenched, anger burning in his chest as he glared at the guys walking away from them. “Idiots,” he mumbled before resting a hand on Allison’s arm and squeezing gently.   
  
Lydia tilted her head as she watched Stiles briefly wondering how he’d known this was going to happen. She saw him get up before Erica even hit the floor. “Is she alright?” She asked, her tone calm, light.   
  
A couple seconds later, Erica’s seizure stopped and he released the breath he hadn’t even realized he’d been holding, looking up at Lydia. “I’m not sure.” He glanced down at the blonde girl. “Erica?” His voice was uncertain. He’d heard that she’d had epilepsy, but he’d never seen her actually have a seizure in the years he’d known her. It was kind of terrifying to watch. Like seeing Scott have an asthma attack.   
  
Confusion filled Erica’s eyes as she stared up at Stiles. She opened her mouth, but nothing came out, she couldn’t seem to force the words from her mouth which happened sometimes. Her head hurt, she was exhausted and she couldn’t seem to make any sense with her words, but she tried to give him half a smile to let him know she understood what he was saying.   
  
Lydia placed a hand on Stiles shoulder, to get his attention, “She might not be able to answer your questions. She looks confused. That happens sometimes, someone should take her to the nurse and see if she has a doctor or something listed in her file for whenever stuff like this happens,” Lydia told him.   
  
Scott nodded, that sounded like a good idea.   
  
“Yeah.” Stiles nodded slightly at her words, giving Erica a gentle, reassuring smile. “Okay, so I’m gonna get you to the school nurse.” He glanced at Scott before sliding his arms around the blonde and carefully picking her up. Something he wouldn’t have been able to do just a week ago. He headed for the cafeteria’s exit and toward the hall, knowing the others were following him.   
  
Allison didn’t miss the surprised looks from the other students in the room, and even the one on Lydia’s face as they followed Stiles out of the room and down the hallway toward the school’s office. She glanced at Scott worriedly.   
  
Scott rested his hand at the small of her back. “Everything’s going to be fine,” he whispered as he guided her out of the lunchroom and into the hallway hoping he was right and things were okay on _all_ accounts.   
  
Allison really hoped he was right, too. But she had a feeling things weren’t going to be that simple. Things were never that simple.   
  
______   
  
Stiles lay on his bed, tossing the lacrosse ball toward the ceiling and catching it effortlessly, his thoughts drifting. He was still tense from earlier in the day when Erica had her seizure in the cafeteria. They’d taken her to the school nurse, who’d immediately called her parents. They’d shown up a short time later to take her to the hospital. She’d looked so _tired._   
  
He’d known her since kindergarten even if their paths rarely crossed. She’d always been quiet and kept mostly to herself. He could relate to that, aside from Scott. But he wasn’t sure that Erica had _any_ friends. He had a feeling that what happened earlier -- people taking pictures of her and gawking -- was a regular thing and it both upset and pissed him off. People were such dicks.   
  
Sighing, he tossed the lacrosse ball again, staring up at the glow in the dark stars on his ceiling. He heard a noise on the roof and rolled his eyes, shaking his head a little and sitting up in bed in time to see Scott crawling through his window. “Taking all my old habits there, Scottie,” he informed him.   
  
Scott chuckled as his feet hit the floor and he straightened up. “Not all of them,” he said with a grin, “But this was quicker than knocking on the door and waiting. I wasn’t feeling very patient,” he said honestly as he walked over to Stiles’ bed and plopped down. He glanced at his best friend. “What’s going on?”   
  
“For once? A whole lot of nothing,” he said with a shrug, tossing the lacrosse ball into the air and catching it before flopping back onto the bed.   
  
Scott watched him for a minute and then sighed. “We’re going to need to talk about this at some point,” he said lightly. “You do know that right? Ignoring it isn’t going to make it go away.”   
  
Stiles sighed, too, and set the lacrosse ball down beside him. “Fine. Let’s talk about it,” he said reluctantly. “I’m infinitely more screwed now than I was when Peter first bit me. That’s basically what Deaton informed me while you were unconscious.”   
  
Scott rolled his eyes, “Come on, that’s not what he said because guess what, I talked to Deaton.” He said pointedly. “Maybe what we need to do is take this whole alpha thing one day at a time,” he offered. “And what’s the first step to getting the hang of this whole alpha thing?”   
  
“Not dying?” Stiles guessed, making a face. “Gotta say that’s pretty high on my priority list.” Even if he sort of felt like it was inevitable, all things considered.   
  
Scott made a face, “Uh no. Learning about the whole alpha thing and you know how to use that power to defend yourself, which leads us to the not dying part.” He explained with the hint of a smile on his face.   
  
“Yeah, well, did he tell you the part about how a new alpha coming into power apparently draws the attention of werewolves everywhere around?” he asked, draping an arm over his eyes. “So guess who’s coming to dinner.” His voice was full of sarcasm.   
  
Scott glanced sideways at Stiles. “He did...and who?” He asked confused.   
  
He groaned. “Werewolves, Scott. Probably a lot of them. You know, experienced ones who know what they’re doing who’d love to be alphas themselves.”   
  
Scott pressed his lips together. “All the more reason we need to get a handle on this. I’m not going to let anyone hurt you Stiles. Deaton can help us...maybe Derek can too. He probably knows more about werewolves and alphas than anyone we know,” he admitted. “And he did help us out with Peter...and he saved Allison. Maybe he’s not as terrible as we initially thought.”   
  
Scott paused, “And Allison said she might have some information for us too, so that’s something.” He added.   
  
Stiles was silent for a long moment. “I’m not cut out for this, Scott,” he said quietly. He’d told Deaton the same thing, and the vet had told him that maybe he was and didn’t know it, but he _knew_ he wasn’t. Stiles didn’t make it a policy to lie to himself about his weaknesses. Leadership wasn’t a strong suit. It was something completely foreign to him.   
  
Scott sighed and shifted so his body was angled towards his friend as he spoke, “Dude, you can do this. _I’ve_ got faith in you.” He said quietly. “This sucks and it’s crazy and it’s going to be hard, but if you commit and you let me help you we can do this. I swear we can and I will be here every step of the way to help.” He said matter-of-factly.   
  
“You are literally the only person,” he responded even if Scott’s words made one corner of his mouth turn up. He exhaled, pursing his lips.   
  
Scott frowned, “I’m not. Allison is here too and Deaton and who knows maybe Derek won’t mind helping. You’re not alone. You’ve got people in your corner and we all think you can do this, you just need to stop psyching yourself out.” He said quietly.   
  
Stiles rolled his head to look at him, silent for a moment, the other part of what Deaton said ringing in his ears. “Deaton says we’re not technically a pack.”   
  
Scott’s brows furrowed, “Why?”   
  
“Something about how you have to like, officially accept me as your alpha.” He made a face and shut his eyes.   
  
Scott arched an eyebrow amused. “Um...okay?” He was silent for a minute before poking Stiles gently in the shoulder, “I accept you as my alpha,” he joked, “I’m not sure if that’s how it works.” He told his friend with a grin.   
  
He snorted. “I have no idea, man. Also it’s weird.” He opened his eyes and looked at Scott again. “Like _really_ weird.”   
  
“So you don’t want me to accept you as my alpha,” whatever that meant. Scott looked hurt. “Dude, you’re my best friend why would it matter? You know I’ve got your back either way.”   
  
“Dude.” Stiles frowned and sat up. “Not what I meant. It’s just like...it feels like a weird power thing and it’s awkward? Like I’m suddenly your boss or something. That’s all I meant.”   
  
Scott chuckled, “Stiles, I hate to break it to you, but you’ve always sort of bossed me around,” he teased lightly, “So this wouldn’t really be new territory for us.” Scott joked.   
  
He shoved him lightly in the shoulder. “Okay, smart ass, but it’s still kind of different and let’s be real, you’ve been doing this wolf thing longer than me.”   
  
Scott smirked and shrugged. “True, but that doesn’t make me anymore of an expert and _you’ve_ been helping me since day one so you know what to expect. It’s going to be okay man, we’re going to get through this like we get through everything else.” He paused, “Together.”   
  
Stiles met his eyes, calming at the sincere faith Scott seemed to have in that. “Yeah.” He draped his arm around his best friend’s shoulders. “Yeah, okay. But you know what I need right now?”   
  
Scott cocked his head in question as he studied Stiles’ face, “What?”   
  
“Pizza,” Stiles informed him with a smirk. “Like an entire one. I’m starving.”   
  
Scott grinned, “Dude...it’s like you’re literally reading my mind. I was just thinking that I was hungry and could go for some pizza.” He told his friend as he sat up. “I’ll order two pies. Meat lovers and plain or something else?”   
  
“Meat lovers and plain,” Stiles confirmed, patting his friend on the back. “This is why we’re best friends.”   
  
Scott nodded, “This and hopefully other reasons too,” he joked as he slapped his friend on the chest and stood glad that Stiles seemed to be in a better mood than before.   
  
He watched Scott move away to make the phone call to Little Italy’s. He was probably right. They’d gotten through a hell of a lot together over the years and this was just the latest thing. Whatever was coming, they’d face together.   
  
And they’d get through it. They had to.


End file.
